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HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN  &  CO. 
Boston  and  New  York. 


"/  ainU  biamiii*  her,  nor  never  will"     (Page  197) 


ALEB  WEST 

MASTER  DIVER 

BY  F.  HOPKINSON  SMITH 

WITH   ILLUSTRATIONS  BY 

MALCOLM  FRASER  AND 

ARTHUR  I.  KELLER 


BOSTON    AND    NEW    YORK 
HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN   AND   COMPANY 
($foe  EiucrsiDe  &xe$&  CamlmDjje 
1898 


COPYRIGHT,  1897   AND    1898,  BY   HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN    AND   CO. 

COPYRIGHT,   1898,  BY  F.  HOPKINSON   SMITH 

ALL   RIGHTS    RESERVED 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGB 

I.  The  Cape  Ann  Sloop i 

II.  A  Morning's  Mail 12 

III.  Captain  Brandt  at  the  Throttle  ...  24 

IV.  Among  the  Blackfish  and  Tomcods    .        .  42 
V.  Aunty  Bell's  Kitchen 60 

VI.  A  Little  Dinner  for  Five      ....  76 

VII.  Betty's  First  Patient 103 

VIII.  The  "Heave  Ho"  of  Lonny  Bowles    .        .  122 

IX.  What  the  Butcher  saw 139 

X.  Strains  from  Bock's  'Cello    ....  162 

XI.  Captain  Joe's  Telegram 181 

XII.  Captain  Joe's  Creed  ......  194 

XIII.  A  Shanty  Door 210 

XIV.  Two  Envelopes 225 

XV.   A  Narrow  Path      .......  236 

XVI.   Under  the  Willows 259 

XVII.   The  Song  of  the  Fire 269 

XVIII.  The  Equinoctial  Gale      .        .        .        .        .  275 

XIX.  From  the  Lantern  Deck 284 

XX.  At  the  Pines 300 

XXI.  The  Record  of  Nickles,  the  Cook  .        .        .  319 

XXII.  After  the  Battle 334 

XXIII.  A  Broken  Draw 341 

XXIV.  The  Swinging  Gate 351 

XXV.  Under  the  Pitiless  Stars 359 

XXVI.  Caleb  trims  his  Lights    .        .       .       .        .  373 


LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS 

Page 
"I  ain't   blamin'   her,  nor  never  will"  (page   197) 

Frontispiece 
"  Swung  back  the  gate  with  the  gesture  of  a  rol- 
licking boy" 70 

"Helen  ...  in  white  muslin  —  not  a  jewel"   .        .  86 

"  No,  it 's  my  Betty" 154 

"  What  's  she  but  a  chit  of  a   child    that  don't 

know  no  better" i98 

"sanford  .  .  .  raised  her  hand  to  his  lips "         .  248 
"  Thank  God,  Tony  !  Thank  God  !  "        .        .        .        .294 

"Victory  is  ours!"  .        .        . 316 

"The  diver  knelt  in  a  passive,  listless  way"         .  372 

"Ain't  nothin'  to  skeer  ye,  child"  ....  376 


CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 


CHAPTER   I 

THE    CAPE   ANN    SLOOP 

The  rising  sun  burned  its  way  through  a 
low-lying  mist  that  hid  the  river,  and  flashed 
its  search-light  rays  over  the  sleeping  city.  The 
blackened  tops  of  the  tall  stacks  caught  the 
signal,  and  answered  in  belching  clouds  of  gray 
steam  that  turned  to  gold  as  they  floated  up- 
wards in  the  morning  air.  The  long  rows  of 
the  many-eyed  tenements  cresting  the  hill 
blinked  in  the  dazzling  light,  threw  wide  their 
shutters,  and  waved  curling  smoke  flags  from 
countless  chimneys. 

Narrow,  silent  alleys  awoke.  Doors  opened 
and  shut.  Single  figures  swinging  dinner- 
pails,  and  groups  of  girls  with  baskets,  hurried 
to  and  fro.  The  rumbling  of  carts  was  heard 
and  shrill  street  cries. 

Suddenly  the  molten  ball  swung  clear  of  the 
purple  haze  and  flooded  the  city  with  tremu- 
lous light.     The  vanes  of  the  steeples  flashed 


2  CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

and  blazed.  The  slanting  roofs,  wet  with  the 
night  dew,  glistened  like  silver.  The  budding 
trees,  filling  the  great  squares,  flamed  pink  and 
yellow,  their  tender  branches  quivering  in  the 
rosy  light. 

Now  long,  deep-toned  whistles  —  reveille  of 
forge,  spindle,  and  press  —  startled  the  air. 
Surging  crowds  filled  the  thoroughfares  ;  pant- 
ing horses  tugged  at  the  surface  cars ;  cabs 
rattled  over  the  cobblestones,  and  loaded  trucks 
began  to  block  the  crossings. 

The  great  city  was  astir. 

At  the  sun's  first  gleam,  Henry  Sanford  had 
waked  with  joyous  start.  Young,  alert,  full 
of  health  and  courage  as  he  was,  the  touch  of 
its  rays  never  came  too  early  for  him.  To-day 
they  had  been  like  the  hand  of  a  friend,  rousing 
him  with  promises  of  good  fortune. 

Dressing  with  eager  haste,  he  had  hurried 
into  the  room  adjoining  his  private  apartments, 
which  served  as  his  uptown  business  office. 
Important  matters  awaited  him.  Within  a  few 
hours  a  question  of  vital  moment  had  to  be 
decided,  —  one  upon  which  the  present  success 
of  his  work  depended. 

As  he  entered,  the  sunshine,  pouring  through 
the  wide  windows,  fell  across  a  drawing-table 
covered  with  the  plans  of  the  lighthouse  he 
was  then  building  ;  illumined  a  desk  piled  high 
with  correspondence,  and  patterned  a  wall  upon 
which  were  hung  photographs  and  sketches  of 


THE   CAPE   ANN    SLOOP  3 

the  various  structures  which  had  marked  the 
progress  of  his  engineering  career. 

But  it  was  toward  a  telegram  lying  open  on 
his  desk  that  Sanford  turned.  He  took  it  in 
his  hand  and  read  it  with  the  quiet  satisfaction 
of  one  who  knows  by  heart  every  line  he 
studies.  It  was  headed  Keyport,  and  ran  as 
follows  :  — 

To    Henry     Sanford,    C.     E.,    Washington 
Square,  New  York. 
Cape   Ann    sloop   arrived   and   is  a  corker. 
Will  be  at  your  uptown  office  in  the  morning. 

Joseph  Bell. 

"  Dear  old  Captain  Joe,  he 's  found  her  at 
last ! "  he  said  to  himself,  and  laughed  aloud. 

With  a  joyous  enthusiasm  that  lent  a  spring 
and  vitality  to  every  movement,  he  stepped 
to  the  window  and  raised  the  sash  to  let  in  the 
morning  air. 

It  was  a  gala-day  for  the  young  engineer. 
For  months  Captain  Joe  had  been  in  search  of 
a  sloop  of  peculiar  construction,  —  one  of  so 
light  a  draught  that  she  could  work  in  a  rolling 
surf,  and  yet  so  stanch  that  she  could  sustain 
the  strain  of  a  derrick-boom  rigged  to  her  mast. 
Without  such  a  sloop  the  building  of  the  light- 
house Sanford  was  then  constructing  for  the 
government  on  Shark  Ledge,  lying  eight  miles 
from  Keyport,  and  breasting  a  tide  running  six 


4  CALEB   WEST,    MASTER   DIVER 

miles  an  hour,  could  not  go  on.  With  such  a 
sloop  its  early  completion  was  assured. 

The  specifications  for  this  lighthouse  pro- 
vided that  the  island  which  formed  its  base 
—  an  artificial  one  made  by  dumping  rough 
stones  over  the  sunken  rock  known  as  Shark's 
Ledge  —  should  be  protected  not  only  from 
sea  action,  but  from  the  thrust  of  floating  ice. 
This  Sanford  was  to  accomplish  by  paving  its 
under-water  slopes  with  huge  granite  blocks, 
to  form  an  enrockment,  —  each  block  to  be 
bedded  by  a  diver. 

The  engineer-in-chief  of  the  Lighthouse 
Board  at  Washington  had  expressed  grave 
doubts  as  to  the  practicability  of  the  working 
methods  submitted  by  Sanford  for  handling 
these  blocks,  questioning  whether  a  stone 
weighing  twelve  tons  could  be  swung  over- 
board, as  suggested  by  him,  from  the  deck  of  a 
vessel  and  lowered  to  a  diver  while  the  boat 
was  moored  in  a  six-mile  current.  As,  how- 
ever, the  selection  of  the  means  to  be  employed 
lay  with  the  contracting  engineer,  and  not  with 
the  Board,  Sanford's  working  plans  had  finally 
been  approved.  He  had  lacked  only  a  sloop  to 
carry  them  out.  This  sloop  Captain  Joe  had 
now  found. 

No  wonder,  then,  that  the  splendor  of  the 
early  sunshine  had  seemed  a  harbinger  of  suc- 
cess, nor  that  as  the  minutes  flew  his  eagerness 
increased  to  grasp  the  captain's  hand. 


THE    CAPE   ANN    SLOOP  5 

At  the  first  sound  of  his  heavy  step  in  the 
hall  outside,  Sanford  sprang  from  his  desk  and 
threw  the  door  wide  open  to  welcome  the  big, 
burly  fellow,  —  comrade  and  friend  for  years, 
as  well  as  foreman  and  assistant  engineer  on 
his  force. 

"  Are  you  sure  she  '11  handle  the  stones  ? " 
were  the  first  words  he  addressed  to  the  cap- 
tain, —  there  were  no  formalities  between  these 
men.  "Nothing  but  a  ten-horse  engine,  re- 
member, will  lift  them  from  the  dock.  What 's 
the  sloop's  beam  ?  " 

"  Thirty  foot  over  all,  an'  she  's  stiff*  as  a 
church,"  answered  Captain  Joe,  all  out  of  breath 
with  his  run  up  the  stairs,  —  pushing  his 
Derby  hat  back  from  his  forehead  as  he  spoke. 
"  An'  her  cap'n  ain't  no  slouch,  nuther.  I  see 
him  yesterday  'fore  I  come  down.  Looks  's  ef 
he  hed  th'  right  stuff  in  him.  Says  he  ain't 
afeard  o'  th'  Ledge,  an'  don't  mind  layin'  her 
broadside  on,  even  ef  she  does  git  a  leetle  mite 
scraped." 

"  How 's  her  boiler  ? "  Sanford  asked,  with 
sudden  earnestness. 

"I  ain't  looked  her  b'iler  over  yit,  but  her 
cylinders  is  big  enough.  If  her  steam  gives 
out,  I  '11  put  one  of  our  own  aboard.  She  '11 
do,  sir.  Don't  worry  a  mite  ;  we  '11  spank  that 
baby  when  we  git  to  't,"  —  and  his  leathery, 
weather-tanned  face  cracked  into  smiles. 

Sanford  laughed  again.     The  cheerful  humor 


6  CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

of  this  man,  whose  judgment  of  men  never 
failed  him,  and  whose  knowledge  of  sea-things 
made  him  invaluable,  was  always  a  tonic  to 
him. 

V'I'm  glad  you  like  her  skipper,"  he  said, 
taking  from  a  pigeonhole  in  his  perfectly  ap- 
pointed desk,  as  he  spoke,  the  charter-party  of 
the  sloop.  "  I  see  his  name  is  Brandt,  and  the 
sloop's  name  is  the  Screamer.  Hope  she  '11 
live  up  to  her  name.  The  charter-party,  I 
think,  ought  to  contain  some  allusion  to  the 
coast-chart,  in  case  of  any  protest  Brandt  may 
make  afterwards  about  the  shoaliness  of  the 
water.  Better  have  him  put  his  initials  on  the 
chart,"  he  added,  with  the  instinctive  habit  of 
caution  which  always  distinguished  his  busi- 
ness methods.  "  Do  you  think  the  shallow 
water  round  the  Ledge  will  scare  him  ? "  he 
continued,  as  he  crossed  the  room  to  a  row 
of  shelves  filled  with  mechanical  drawings,  in 
search  of  a  round  tin  case  holding  the  various 
charts  of  Long  Island  Sound. 

Captain  Joe  did  not  answer  Sanford's  ques- 
tion at  once.  His  mind  was  on  something  else. 
He  took  off  his  hat  and  pea-jacket,  hung  them 
on  a  hook,  moved  back  the  pile  of  books  from 
the  middle  of  the  table,  with  as  little  consider- 
ation as  he  would  have  shown  to  so  many  bricks, 
corked  a  bottle  of  liquid  ink  for  safety,  flattened 
with  his  big  hands  the  chart  which  Sanford 
had  unrolled,  weighted  its  four  corners  with  a 


THE    CAPE   ANN    SLOOP  7 

T  square  and  some  color-pans,  and  then,  bend- 
ing his  massive  head,  began  studying  its  details 
with  all  the  easy  confidence  of  a  first  officer 
on  a  Cunarder. 

As  he  leaned  over  the  chart  the  sunlight 
played  about  his  face  and  brought  into  stronger 
relief  the  few  gray  hairs  which  silvered  the 
short  brown  curls  crisped  about  his  neck  and 
temples.  These  hairs  betrayed  the  only  change 
seen  in  him  since  the  memorable  winter's  day 
when  he  had  saved  the  lives  of  the  passengers 
on  the  sinking  ferry-boat  near  Hoboken  by 
calking  with  his  own  body  the  gash  left  in  her 
side  by  a  colliding  tug.  But  time  had  touched 
him  nowhere  else.  He  was  still  the  same 
broad-as-he-was-long  old  sea-dog ;  tough,  sturdy, 
tender-eyed,  and  fearless.  His  teeth  were  as 
white,  his  mouth  was  as  firm,  his  jaw  as  strong 
and  determined. 

The  captain  placed  his  horn-tipped  finger  on 
a  dot  marked  "  Shark's  Ledge  Spindle,"  oblit- 
erating in  the  act  some  forty  miles  of  sea- 
space  ;  repeated  to  himself  in  a  low  voice, 
"  Six  fathoms  —  four  —  one  and  a  half  —  hum, 
't  ain't  nothin' ;  that  Cape  Ann  sloop  can  do 
it ;"  and  then  suddenly  remembering  Sanford's 
question,  he  answered,  with  quick  lifting  of  his 
head  and  with  a  cheery  laugh,  "  Skeer  him  ? 
Wait  till  ye  see  him,  sir.  And  he  won't  make 
no  pro-test,  nuther.     He  ain't  that  kind." 

When  the  coast -chart  had  been  rolled  up 


8  CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

and  replaced  in  the  tin  case,  to  be  taken  to 
Keyport  for  the  skipper's  initials,  both  men 
resumed  their  seats  by  Sanford's  desk.  By  this 
time  some  of  the  young  engineer's  enthusiasm 
over  the  finding  of  the  sloop  had  begun  to  cool. 
He  seemed,  as  he  sat  there,  a  different  man,  as 
with  businesslike  address  he  turned  to  the  dis- 
cussion of  various  important  details  connected 
with  the  work. 

" Anything  left  of  the  old  house,  captain?" 
he  asked,  taking  from  the  table  a  rough  sketch 
of  the  new  shanty  to  be  built  on  the  Ledge, 

—  the  one  used  while  the  artificial  island  was 
being  built  having  been  injured  by  the  winter 
storms. 

"Not  much,  sir  :  one  side's  stove  in  an'  the 
roof's  smashed.  Some  o'  the  men  are  in  it 
now,  gittin'  things  in  shape,  but  it 's  purty 
rickety.     I  'm  a-goin'  to  put  the  new  one  here," 

—  his  finger  on  the  drawing,  —  "  an'  I  'm  goin' 
to  make  it  o'  tongue-an'-grooved  stuff  an'  tar 
the  roof  to  git  it  water-tight.  Then  I  '11  hev 
some  iron  bands  made  with  turnbuckles  to  go 
over  the  top  timbers  an'  fasten  it  all  down  in 
the  stone-pile.  Oh,  we  '11  git  her  so  she  '11  stay 
put  when  hell  breaks  loose  some  night  down 
Montauk  way  !  "  and  another  hearty  laugh  rang 
out,  shaking  the  captain's  brawny  chest,  as  he 
rolled  up  the  drawing  and  tucked  it  in  the  case 
for  safety. 

"There's   no   doubt   we'll   have  plenty  of 


THE    CAPE   ANN    SLOOP  9 

that,"  said  Sanford,  with  a  slight  touch  of  anx- 
iety in  his  tones.  "  And  now  about  the  work- 
ing force.  Will  you  make  many  changes  ?  " 
he  asked. 

"  No,  sir.  We  '11  put  Caleb  West  in  charge 
of  the  divin' ;  ain't  no  better  man  'n  Caleb  in 
er  out  a  dress.  Them  enrockments  is  mighty 
ugly  things  to  set  under  water,  an'  I  won't 
trust  nobody  but  Caleb  to  do  it.  Lonny 
Bowles  '11  help  tend  derricks  ;  an'  there 's  our 
regular  gang,  —  George  Nickles  an'  the  rest  of 
'em.  I  only  got  one  new  man  so  far  :  that 's  a 
young  feller  named  Bill  Lacey.  He  looks  like 
a  skylarkin'  chap,  but  I  kin  take  that  out  o' 
him.  He  kin  climb  like  a  cat,  an'  we  want 
a  man  like  that  to  shin  the  derricks.  He's 
tended  divers,  too,  he  says,  an'  he  '11  do  to  look 
after  Caleb's  life-line  an'  hose  when  I  can't. 
By  the  way,  sir,  I  forgot  to  ask  ye  about  them 
derricks.  We  got  to  hev  four  whackin'  big 
sticks  to  set  them  big  stone  on  top  o'  the  con- 
crete when  we  git  it  finished,  an'  there  ain't 
no  time  to  lose  on  'em.  I  thought  maybe 
ye  'd  order  'em  to-day  from  Medford  ?  " 

While  Sanford  was  writing  a  telegram  to  a 
shipbuilder  at  Medford  ordering  "  four  clean, 
straight,  white  pine  masts  not  less  than  twenty 
inches  at  the  butt,"  and  delivering  it  to  his 
negro  servant,  Sam,  whom  he  called  from  the 
adjoining  room,  Captain  Joe  had  arisen  from  his 
chair  and  had  taken  down  his  pea-jacket  and 


io  CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

Derby  hat,  without  which  he  never  came  to  New 
York,  —  it  was  his  one  concession  to  metro- 
politan exactions  :  the  incongruity  between  the 
pea-jacket  and  the  Derby  hat  always  delighted 
Sanford. 

"  But,  Captain  Joe,"  said  Sanford,  looking 
up,  "you  must  n't  go  ;  breakfast  will  be  ready 
in  a  minute.  Young  Mr.  Hardy  is  coming, 
whom  you  met  here  once  before.  He  wants 
to  meet  you  again." 

"  Not  this  mornin',  sir.  I  've  got  a  lot  o' 
things  to  look  after  'fore  I  catch  the  three-ten. 
I  'm  obleeged  to  ye  all  the  same,"  and  he 
humped  his  arms  and  shoulders  into  his 
weather-beaten  pea-jacket  and  picked  up  the 
tin  case. 

"  Well,  I  wish  you  would,"  said  Sanford, 
with  a  hand  on  the  captain's  shoulder,  and 
real  disappointment  in  his  tone,  "but  you 
know  best,  I  suppose." 

With  the  big  brown  hand  of  the  captain  in 
his  own  he  followed  him  to  the  top  of  the  stairs, 
where  he  stood  watching  the  burly  figure  de- 
scending the  spiral  staircase,  the  tin  case  un- 
der his  arm,  spy-glass  fashion. 

"  You  '11  see  me  in  the  morning,  captain," 
Sanford  called  out,  not  wanting  him  to  go  with- 
out another  word.  "  I  '11  come  by  the  midnight 
train." 

The  captain  looked  up  and  waved  his  hand 
cheerily  in  lieu  of  a  reply. 


THE    CAPE   ANN    SLOOP  II 

Sanford  waited  until  the  turn  of  the  staircase 
hid  him  from  view,  then  turned,  and,  drawing 
the  heavy  curtains  of  the  vestibule,  passed 
through  it  to  his  private  apartments,  flooded 
with  the  morning  light. 


CHAPTER  II 

a  morning's  mail 

Sanford  dropped  into  a  brown  leather 
chair,  and  Sam,  with  the  fawning  droop  of  a 
water-spaniel,  placed  the  morning  paper  before 
him,  moved  a  small  table  nearer,  on  which  his 
master  could  lay  the  morning's  mail  as  it  was 
opened,  adjusted  the  curtains  so  as  to  keep  the 
glare  from  his  paper,  and  with  noiseless  tread 
withdrew  to  the  kitchen.  Whatever  the  faults 
of  this  product  of  reconstruction  might  have 
been,  —  and  Sam  had  many,  —  neglect  of 
Sanford's  comfort  was  not  one  of  them. 

According  to  his  lights  he  was  scrupulously 
honest.  Although  he  dressed  with  more  care 
on  Sunday  afternoons  than  his  master,  —  gen- 
erally in  that  gentleman's  cast-off  clothes,  and 
always  in  his  discarded  neckties  and  gloves, 
—  smoked  his  tobacco,  purloined  his  cigars, 
and  occasionally  drank  his  wine,  whenever  the 
demands  of  his  social  life  made  such  inroads 
on  Sanford's  private  stock  necessary  to  main- 
tain a  certain  prestige  among  his  ebonized 
brethren,  he  invariably  drew  the  line  at  his  mas- 
ter's loose  change  and  his  shirt-studs.     This 


A   MORNING'S   MAIL  13 

was  due,  doubtless,  to  some  drops  of  blood, 
trickling  through  his  veins  and  inherited  from 
an  old  family  butler  of  an  ancestor,  which, 
while  they  permitted  him  the  free  use  of  every- 
thing his  master  ate,  drank,  and  wore,  —  a  com- 
mon privilege  of  the  slave  days, — debarred  him 
completely  from  greater  crimes. 

His  delinquencies  —  all  of  them  perfectly 
well  known  to  Sanf ord  —  never  lost  him  his 
master's  confidence  :  he  knew  the  race,  and 
never  expected  the  impossible.  Not  only  did 
he  place  Sam  in  charge  of  his  household  ex- 
penditures, but  he  gave  him  entire  supervision 
as  well  of  his  rooms  and  their  contents. 

In  these  apartments  Sam  took  the  greatest 
pride.  They  were  at  the  top  of  one  of  those 
old-fashioned,  hip -roofed,  dormer -windowed 
houses  still  to  be  found  on  Washington  Square, 
and  consisted  of  five  rooms,  with  dining-room 
and  salon. 

Against  the  walls  of  the  salon  stood  low  book- 
cases, their  tops  covered  with  curios  and  the 
hundred  and  one  knickknacks  that  encumber 
a  bachelor's  apartment.  Above  these  again 
hung  a  collection  of  etchings  and  sketches  in 
and  out  of  frames,  many  of  them  signed  by  fel- 
low members  of  the  Buzzards,  a  small  Bohemian 
club  of  ten  who  often  held  their  meetings  here. 

Under  a  broad  frieze  ran  a  continuous  shelf, 
holding  samples  of  half  the  pots  of  the  uni- 
verse, from  a  Heidelberg  beer-mug  to  an  East 


H  CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

Indian  water-jar ;  and  over  the  doors  were 
grouped  bunches  of  African  arrows,  spears, 
and  clubs,  and  curious  barbaric  shields ;  while 
the  centre  of  the  room  was  occupied  by  a  square 
table  covered  with  books  and  magazines,  ash- 
trays, Japanese  ivories,  and  the  like.  Set  in 
among  them  was  an  umbrella  -  lamp  with  a 
shade  of  sealing-wax  red.  At  \ntervals  about 
the  room  were  smaller  tables,  convenient  for 
decanters  and  crushed  ice,  and  against  the 
walls,  facing  the  piano,  were  wide  divans  piled 
high  with  silk  cushions,  and  near  the  window 
which  opened  on  a  balcony  overlooking  the 
square  stood  a  carved  Venetian  wedding-chest, 
which  Sanford  had  picked  up  on  one  of  his 
trips  abroad. 

Within  easy  reach  of  reading-lamp  and  chair 
rested  a  four-sided  bookcase  on  rollers,  filled 
with  works  on  engineering  and  books  of  refer- 
ence ;  while  a  high,  narrow  case  between  two 
doors  was  packed  with  photographs  and  engrav- 
ings of  the  principal  marine  structures  of  our 
own  and  other  coasts.  It  was  at  once  the  room 
of  a  man  of  leisure  and  a  man  of  work. 

Late  as  was  the  season,  a  little  wood  fire 
smouldered  in  the  open  fireplace,  —  one  of  the 
sentiments  to  which  Sanford  clung,  —  while 
before  it  stood  the  brown  leather  chair  in  which 
he  sat. 

"  I  forgot  to  say  that  Captain  Bell  will  not 
be  here  to  breakfast,  Sam,  but  Mr.  Hardy  is 


A   MORNING'S   MAIL  15 

coming,"  said  Sanford,  suddenly  recollecting 
himself. 

"  Yaas,  sah ;  everything  's  ready,  sah,"  re- 
plied Sam,  who,  now  that  the  telegram  had 
been  dispatched  and  the  morning  papers  and 
letters  delivered,  had  slipped  into  his  white 
jacket  again. 

Sanford  picked  up  the  package  of  letters,  a 
dozen  or  more,  and  began  cutting  the  en- 
velopes. Most  of  them  were  read  rapidly, 
marked  in  the  margin,  and  laid  in  a  pile 
beside  him.  There  were  two  which  he  had 
placed  by  themselves  without  opening :  one 
from  his  friend  Mrs.  Morgan  Leroy,  and  the 
other  from  Major  Tom  Slocomb,  of  Pocomoke, 
Maryland. 

Major  Slocomb  wrote  to  inform  him  of  his 
approaching  visit  to  New  York,  accompanied 
by  his  niece,  Miss  Helen  Shirley,  of  Kent 
County,  —  "a  daughter,  sir,  of  Colonel  Talbot 
Shirley,  one  of  our  foremost  citizens,  whom  I 
believe  you  had  the  honor  of  meeting  during 
your  never-to-be-forgotten  visit  among  us." 

The  never-to-be-forgotten  visit  was  one  that 
Sanford  had  made  the  major  the  winter  before, 
when  he  was  inspecting  the  site  for  a  stone 
and  brush  jetty  he  was  about  to  build  for  the 
government,  in  the  Chesapeake,  near  those 
famous  estates  which  the  Pocomokian  inherited 
from  his  wife,  "the  widow  of  Major  Talbot, 
suh." 


16  CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

During  this  visit  the  major  had  greatly  en- 
deared himself  to  the  young  engineer.  Under 
all  the  Pocomokian's  veneer  of  delightful 
mendacity,  utter  shiftlessness,  and  luxurious 
extravagance,  Sanford  had  discovered  certain 
qualities  of  true  loyalty  to  those  whom  he  loved, 
and  a  very  tender  sympathy  for  the  many  in  the 
world  worse  off  than  himself.  He  had  become 
convinced  too  that  the  major's  conversion  from 
a  vagabond  with  gentlemanly  instincts  to  a 
gentleman  with  strong  Bohemian  tendencies 
might  easily  be  accomplished  were  a  little 
more  money  placed  at  the  Pocomokian's  dis- 
posal. With  an  endless  check-book  and  un- 
limited overdrafts,  settlements  to  be  made 
every  hundred  years,  the  major  would  be  a 
prince  among  men. 

The  niece  to  whom  the  major  referred  in 
his  letter  lived  in  an  adjoining  county  with  a 
relative  much  nearer  of  kin.  Like  many  other 
possessions  of  this  acclimated  Marylander,  she 
was  really  not  his  niece  at  all,  but  another  her- 
itage from  his  deceased  wife.  The  major  first 
saw  her  on  horseback,  in  a  neat-fitting  riding- 
habit  which  she  had  made  out  of  some  blue 
army  kersey  bought  at  the  country  store. 
One  glance  at  her  lovely  face,  the  poise  of 
her  head,  the  easy  grace  of  her  seat,  and  her 
admirable  horsemanship  decided  him  at  once. 
Henceforward  her  name  was  to  be  emblazoned 
on  the  scroll  of  his  family  tree  ! 


A   MORNING'S    MAIL  17 

It  was  not  until  Sanford  had  finished  the 
major's  letter  that  he  turned  to  that  from  Mrs. 
Leroy.  He  looked  first  at  the  circular  post- 
mark to  see  the  exact  hour  at  which  it  had 
been  mailed  ;  then  he  rose  from  the  big  chair, 
threw  himself  on  the  divan,  tucked  a  pillow 
under  his  head,  and  slowly  broke  the  seal. 
The  envelope  was  large  and  square,  decorated 
with  the  crest  of  the  Leroys  in  violet  wax,  and 
addressed  in  a  clear,  round,  almost  masculine 
hand.  "My  dear  Henry,"  it  began,  "if  you 
are  going  to  the  Ledge,  please  stop  at  Medford 
and  see  how  my  new  dining-room  is  getting 
on.  Be  sure  to  come  to  luncheon  to-morrow, 
so  we  can  talk  it  over,"  etc.,  and  ended  with 
the  hope  that  he  had  not  taken  cold  when  he 
left  her  house  the  night  before. 

It  had  contained  but  half  a  dozen  lines,  and 
was  as  direct  as  most  of  her  communications ; 
yet  Sanford  held  it  for  a  long  time  in  his 
hands,  read  and  re-read  it,  looked  at  the  head- 
ing, examined  the  signature,  turned  it  over 
carefully,  and,  placing  it  in  its  envelope,  thrust 
it  under  the  sofa-pillow.  With  his  hands  be- 
hind his  head  he  lay  for  some  time  in  thought. 
Then  taking  Mrs.  Leroy's  letter  from  under 
the  pillow,  he  read  it  again,  put  it  in  his  pocket, 
and  began  pacing  the  room. 

The  letter  had  evidently  made  him  restless. 
He  threw  wide  the  sashes  of  the  French  win- 
dow which  opened  on  the  iron  balcony,  and 


18  CALEB   WEST,    MASTER   DIVER 

looked  for  a  moment  over  the  square  below, 
where  the  hard,  pen-line  drawing  of  its  trees 
was  blurred  by  the  yellow-green  bloom  of  the 
early  spring.  He  turned  back  into  the  room, 
rearranged  a  photograph  or  two  on  the  mantel, 
and,  picking  up  a  vase  filled  with  roses,  inhaled 
their  fragrance  and  placed  them  in  the  centre 
of  the  dainty  breakfast-table,  with  its  snowy 
linen  and  polished  silver,  that  Sam  had  just 
been  setting  near  him.  Reseating  himself  in 
his  chair,  he  called  again  to  the  ever  watchful 
darky,  who  had  been  following  his  movements 
through  the  crack  of  the  pantry  door. 

"Sam." 

"Yaas,  'r,"  came  a  voice  apparently  from 
the  far  end  of  the  pantry ;  "comin',  sah." 

"  Look  over  the  balcony  again  and  see  if 
Mr.  Hardy  is  on  his  way  across  the  square. 
Why!  what's  become  of  the  fellow?  "he  said 
to  himself,  consulting  the  empire  clock  with 
broken  columns  which  decorated  the  mantel. 
"  It 's  after  ten  now.  I  '11  wager  Helen  wrote 
him  by  the  same  mail.  No  wonder  he  's  late. 
Let  me  see  !  She  gets  here  in  three  days.  Jack 
will  be  out  of  his  head."    And  Sanford  sighed. 

"  I  'spec's  dat  's  him  a-comin'  up  now,  sah," 
Sam  called.  "  I  yeared  de  downstairs  do' 
click  a  minute  ago.  Here  he  is,  sah,"  drawing 
aside  the  curtain  that  hid  the  entrance  to  the 
outer  hall. 

"  Sorry,  old  man,"  came  a  voice  increasing 


A    MORNING'S    MAIL  19 

in  distinctness  as  the  speaker  approached, 
"  but  I  could  n't  help  it.  I  had  a  lot  of  letters 
to  answer  this  morning,  or  I  should  have  been 
on  time.  It  don't  make  any  difference  to  you ; 
it's  your  day  off." 

"  My  day  off,  is  it  ?  I  was  out  of  bed  this 
morning  at  six  o'clock.  Captain  Joe  stopped 
here  on  his  way  from  the  train ;  he  has  just 
left ;  and  if  you  had  stayed  away  a  minute  more, 
I  'd  have  breakfasted  without  you.  And  that 
is  n't  all.  That  sloop  I  've  been  looking  for 
has  arrived,  and  I  go  to  Keyport  to-night." 

"The  devil  you  do  !  "  said  Jack,  a  shade  of 
disappointment  crossing  his  face.  "  That 
means,  I  suppose,  you  won't  be  back  this 
spring.  How  long  are  you  going  to  be  build- 
ing that  lighthouse,  anyhow,  Henry  ?  " 

"  Two  years  more,  I  'm  afraid,"  said  Sanford 
thoughtfully.  "Breakfast  right  away,  Sam. 
Take  the  seat  by  the  window,  Jack.  I  thought 
we  'd  breakfast  here  instead  of  in  the  dining- 
room  ;  the  air's  fresher." 

Jack  opened  his  coat,  took  a  rose  from  the 
vase,  adjusted  it  in  his  buttonhole,  and  spread 
his  napkin  over  his  knees. 

He  was  much  the  younger  of  the  two  men, 
and  his  lot  in  life  had  been  far  easier.  Junior 
partner  in  a  large  banking-house  down  town, 
founded  and  still  sustained  by  the  energy  and 
business  tact  of  his  father,  with  plenty  of  time 
for  all  the  sports  and  pastimes  popular  with 


20  CALEB   WEST,    MASTER   DIVER 

men  of  his  class,  he  had  not  found  it  a  difficult 
task  to  sail  easily  through  life  without  a  jar. 

"  What  do  you  hear  from  Crab  Island, 
Jack  ? "  asked  Sanford,  a  sly  twinkle  in  his  eye, 
as  he  passed  him  the  muffins. 

"They've  started  the  new  club-house,"  said 
Jack,  with  absolute  composure.  "  We  are  go- 
ing to  run  out  that  extension  you  suggested 
when  you  were  down  there  last  winter."  He 
clipped  his  egg  lightly,  without  a  change  of 
countenance. 

"  Anything  from  Helen  Shirley  ?  " 

"  Just  a  line,  thanking  me  for  the  magazines," 
Jack  answered  in  a  casual  tone,  not  the  faint- 
est interest  betraying  itself  in  the  inflections 
of  his  voice.  Sanford  thought  he  detected  a 
slight  increase  of  color  on  his  young  friend's 
always  rosy  cheeks,  but  he  said  nothing. 

"  Did  she  say  anything  about  coming  to 
New  York  ? "  Sanford  asked,  looking  at  Jack 
quizzically  out  of  the  corner  of  his  eye. 

"  Yes  ;  now  I  come  to  think  of  it,  I  believe 
she  did  say  something  about  the  major's  com- 
ing, but  nothing  very  definite." 

Jack  spoke  as  if  he  had  been  aroused  from 
some  reverie  entirely  foreign  to  the  subject 
under  discussion.  He  continued  to  play  with 
his  egg,  necking  off  the  broken  bits  of  shell 
with  the  point  of  his  spoon.  With  all  his  pre- 
tended composure,  however,  he  could  not  raise 
his  eyes  to  those  of  his  host. 


A   MORNING'S    MAIL  21 

"What  a  first-class  fraud  you  are,  Jack!" 
said  Sanford,  laughing  at  last.  He  leaned  back 
in  his  chair  and  looked  at  Hardy  good-hu- 
moredly  from  under  his  eyebrows.  "  I  would 
have  read  you  Slocomb's  letter,  lying  right  be- 
fore you,  if  I  had  n't  been  sure  you  knew  every- 
thing in  it.  Helen  and  the  major  will  be  here 
next  week,  and  you  know  the  very  hour  she  '11 
arrive,  and  you  have  staked  out  every  moment 
of  her  time.  Now  don't  try  any  of  your  high- 
daddy  tricks  on  me.  What  are  you  going  to  do 
next  Tuesday  night  ?  " 

Jack  laughed,  but  made  no  attempt  to  parry  a 
word  of  Sanford's  thrust.  He  looked  up  at  last 
inquiringly  over  his  plate  and  said,  "  Why  ?  " 

"  Because  I  want  you  to  dine  here  with  them. 
I  '11  ask  Mrs.  Leroy  to  chaperon  Helen.  Le- 
roy  is  still  abroad,  and  she  can  come.  We  '11 
get  Bock,  too,  with  his  'cello.  What  other 
ladies  are  in  town  ?  " 

Jack's  face  was  aglow  in  an  instant.  The 
possibility  of  dining  in  Sanford's  room,  with 
its  background  of  rich  color  and  with  all  its 
pretty  things  that  Helen  he  knew  would  love 
so  well,  lent  instant  interest  to  Sanford's  pro- 
position. He  looked  about  him.  He  made  up 
his  mind  just  where  he  would  seat  her  after 
dinner :  the  divan  nearest  the  curtains  was  the 
best.  How  happy  she  would  be,  and  how  new 
it  would  all  be  to  her !  He  could  have  planned 
nothing  more  delightful.     Then  remembering 


22  CALEB   WEST,    MASTER   DIVER 

that  Sanford  had  asked  him  a  question,  he 
recovered  himself  and  nonchalantly  gave  the 
names  of  several  young  women  he  knew  who 
might  be  agreeable  guests.  But  after  a  mo- 
ment's reflection  he  suggested  as  a  second 
thought  that  Sanford  leave  these  details  to  Mrs. 
Leroy.  Jack  knew  her  tact,  and  he  knew  to  a 
nicety  just  how  many  young  girls  Mrs.  Leroy 
would  bring.  The  success  of  bachelor  dinners, 
from  Hardy's  present  standpoint,  was  not  de- 
pendent upon  the  attendance  of  half  a  dozen 
extra  young  women  and  two  men ;  quite  the 
reverse. 

The  date  for  the  dinner  arranged,  and  the 
wisdom  of  leaving  the  list  of  guests  to  Mrs. 
Leroy  agreed  upon,  the  talk  drifted  into  other 
channels  :  the  Whistler  pastels  at  Klein's  ;  the 
garden-party  to  be  given  at  Mrs.  Leroy' s 
country-seat  near  Medford  when  the  new  din- 
ing-room was  finished  and  the  roses  were  in 
bloom ;  the  opportunity  Sanford  might  now 
enjoy  of  combining  business  with  pleasure, 
Medford  being  a  short  run  from  Shark  Ledge  ; 
the  success  of  Smearly's  last  portrait  at  the 
Academy,  a  photograph  of  which  lay  on  the 
table ;  the  probable  change  in  Slocomb's  for- 
tunes, now  that,  with  the  consent  of  the  insur- 
ance company  who  held  the  mortgage,  he  had 
rented  what  was  left  of  the  Widow  Talbot's 
estate  to  a  strawberry  planter  from  the  North, 
in  order  to  live  in  New  York ;   and  finally, 


A    MORNING'S    MAIL  23 

under  Jack's  guidance,  back  to  Helen  Shirley's 
visit. 

When  the  two  men,  an  hour  later,  passed 
into  the  corridor,  Sanford  held  two  letters  in 
his  hand  ready  to  mail :  one  addressed  to 
Major  Slocomb,  with  an  inclosure  to  Miss 
Shirley,  the  other  to  Mrs.  Morgan  Leroy. 

Sam  watched  them  over  the  balcony  until 
they  crossed  the  square,  cut  a  double  shuffle 
with  both  feet,  admired  his  black  grinning  face 
in  the  mirror,  took  a  corncob  pipe  from  the 
shelf  in  the  pantry,  filled  it  with  some  of  San- 
ford's  best  tobacco,  and  began  packing  his 
master's  bag  for  the  night  train  to  Keyport. 


CHAPTER  III 

CAPTAIN    BRANDT    AT    THE    THROTTLE 

The  sun  was  an  hour  high  when  Sanford 
arrived  at  Keyport  and  turned  quickly  toward 
the  road  leading  from  the  station  to  Captain 
Joe's  cottage,  a  spring  and  lightness  in  his  step 
which  indicated  not  only  robust  health,  but  an 
eagerness  to  reach  at  once  the  work  absorbing 
his  mind.  When  he  gained  the  high  ground 
overlooking  the  cottage  and  dock,  he  paused 
for  a  view  that  always  charmed  him  with  its 
play  of  light  and  color  over  sea  and  shore,  and 
which  seemed  never  so  beautiful  as  in  the  early 
morning  light. 

Below  him  lay  Keyport  Village,  built  about 
a  rocky  half-moon  of  a  harbor,  its  old  wharves 
piled  high  with  rotting  oil-barrels  and  flanked 
by  empty  warehouses,  behind  which  crouched 
low,  gray-roofed  cabins,  squatting  in  a  tangle 
of  streets,  with  here  and  there  a  white  church 
spire  tipped  with  a  restless  weather-vane. 
Higher,  on  the  hills,  were  nestled  some  old 
homesteads  with  sloping  roofs  and  wide  porches, 
and  away  up  on  the  crest  of  the  heights,  over- 
looking the  sea,  stood  the  more  costly  struc- 


CAPTAIN  BRANDT  AT  THE  THROTTLE    25 

tures  with  well  -  shaved  lawns  spotted  with 
homesick  trees  from  a  warmer  clime,  their 
arms  stretched  appealingly  toward  the  sea. 

At  his  feet  lay  the  brimming  harbor  itself, 
dotted  with  motionless  yachts  and  various  fish- 
ing-craft, all  reflected  upside  down  in  the  still 
sea,  its  glassy  surface  rippled  now  and  then  by 
the  dipping  buckets  of  men  washing  down  the 
decks,  or  by  the  quick  water-spider  strokes  of 
some  lobster-fisherman,  — the  click  of  the  row- 
locks pulsating  in  the  breathless  morning  air. 

On  the  near  point  of  the  half-moon  stood  Key- 
port  Light,  —  an  old-fashioned  factory  chimney 
of  a  Light,  —  built  of  brick,  but  painted  snow- 
white  with  a  black  cigar  band  around  its  middle, 
its  top  surmounted  by  a  copper  lantern.  This 
flashed  red  and  white  at  night,  over  a  radius 
of  twenty  miles.  Braced  up  against  its  base, 
for  a  better  hold,  was  a  little  building  hiding  a 
great  fog-horn,  which  on  thick  days  and  nights 
bellowed  out  its  welcome  to  Keyport's  best. 

On  the  far  point  of  the  moon  —  the  one 
opposite  the  Light,  and  some  two  miles  away 
— ■  stretched  sea-meadows  broken  with  clumps 
of  rock  and  shelter-houses  for  cattle,  and  be- 
tween these  two  points,  almost  athwart  the 
mouth  of  the  harbor,  like  a  huge  motionless 
whale  lay  Crotch  Island,  its  backbone  knotted 
with  summer  cottages.  Beyond  the  island 
away  out  under  the  white  glare  of  the  risen  sun 
could  be  seen  a  speck  of  purplish-gray  fringed 


26  CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

with  bright  splashes  of  spray  glinting  in  the 
dazzling  light.     This  was  Shark's  Ledge. 

As  Sanford  looked  toward  the  site  of  the 
new  Light  a  strange  sensation  came  over  him. 
There  lay  the  work  on  which  his  reputation 
would  rest  and  by  which  he  would  hereafter 
be  judged.  Everything  else  he  had  so  far 
accomplished  was,  he  knew,  but  a  preparation 
for  this  his  greatest  undertaking.  Not  only 
were  the  engineering  problems  involved  new 
to  his  experience,  but  in  his  attitude  in  regard 
to  them  he  had  gone  against  all  precedents  as 
well  as  against  the  judgments  of  older  heads, 
and  had  relied  almost  exclusively  upon  Captain 
Joe's  personal  skill  and  pluck.  While  it  was 
true  that  he  never  doubted  his  ultimate  success, 
there  always  came  a  tugging  at  his  heartstrings 
and  a  tightening  of  his  throat  whenever  he 
looked  toward  the  site  of  the  lighthouse. 

Turning  from  the  scene  with  a  long  drawn 
breath,  he  walked  with  slackened  step  down 
the  slope  that  led  to  the  long  dock  fronting  the 
captain's  cottage.  As  he  drew  nearer  he  saw 
that  the  Screamer  had  been  moored  between 
the  captain's  dock  (always  lumbered  with  para- 
phernalia required  for  sea-work)  and. the  great 
granite-wharf,  which  was  piled  high  with  enor- 
mous cubes  of  stone,  each  as  big  as  two  pianos. 

On  her  forward  deck  was  bolted  a  hoisting- 
engine,  and  thrust  up  through  the  hatch  of  the 
forecastle  was  the  smoke-stack  of  the  boiler, 


CAPTAIN  BRANDT  AT  THE  THROTTLE    27 

already  puffing  trial  feathers  of  white  steam  into 
the  morning  air.  She  had,  too,  the  heavy  boom 
and  stout  mast  used  as  a  derrick.  Captain  Joe 
had  evidently  seen  no  reason  to  change  his  mind 
about  her,  for  he  was  at  the  moment  on  her 
after-deck,  overhauling  a  heavy  coil  of  manilla 
rope,  and  reeving  it  in  the  block  himself,  the 
men  standing  by  to  catch  the  end  of  the  line. 

When  Sanford  joined  the  group  there  was 
no  general  touching  of  hats,  —  outward  sign 
of  deference  that  a  group  of  laborers  on  land 
would  have  paid  their  employer.  In  a  certain 
sense,  each  man  here  was  chief.  Each  man 
knew  his  duty  and  did  it,  quietly,  effectually, 
and  cheerfully.  The  day's  work  had  no  limit 
of  hours.  The  pay  was  never  fixed  by  a  board 
of  delegates,  one  half  of  whom  could  not  tell  a 
marlinespike  from  a  monkey-wrench.  These 
men  had  enlisted  for  a  war  with  winds  and 
storms  and  changing  seas,  and  victory  meant 
something  more  to  them  than  pay  once  a  month 
and  plum  duff  once  a  week.  It  meant  hours 
of  battling  with  the  sea,  of  tugging  at  the  lines, 
waist-deep  in  the  boiling  surf  that  rolled  in  from 
Montauk.  It  meant  constant,  unceasing  vigi- 
lance day  and  night,  in  order  that  some  exposed 
site  necessary  for  a  bedstone  might  be  captured 
and  held  before  a  southeaster  could  wreck  it, 
and  thus  a  vantage-point  be  lost  in  the  laying 
of  the  masonry. 

Each  man  took  his  share  of  wet  and  cold 


28  CALEB   WEST,    MASTER   DIVER 

and  exposure  without  grumbling.  When,  by 
some  accident,  a  cowardly  and  selfish  spirit 
joined  the  force,  Captain  Joe,  on  the  first  word 
of  complaint,  handed  the  man  his  money  and 
put  him  ashore.  The  severity  of  the  work  was 
never  resented.  It  was  only  against  their  com- 
mon enemies,  the  winds  and  the  seas,  that 
murmurs  were  heard.  "  Drat  that  wind  ! " 
one  would  say.  "  Here  she 's  a-haulin'  to  the 
east'rd  agin,  an'  we  ain't  got  them  j'ints  [in 
the  masonry]  p'inted."  Or,  "  It  makes  a  man 
sick  to  see  th'  way  this  month  's  been  a-goin' 
on,  —  not  a  decent  day  since  las'  Tuesday." 

Sanford  liked  these  men.  He  was  always 
at  home  with  them.  He  loved  their  courage, 
their  grit,  their  loyalty  to  one  another  and  to 
the  work  itself.  The  absence  of  ceremony 
among  them  never  offended  him.  His  cheery 
"  Good-morning  "  as  he  stepped  aboard  was  as 
cheerily  answered,  but  no  other  demonstration 
took  place. 

Captain  Joe  stopped  work  only  long  enough 
to  shake  Sanford's  hand  and  to  present  him 
to  the  newcomer,  Captain  Bob  Brandt  of  the 
Screamer. 

"  Cap'n  Bob  !  "  he  called,  waving  his  hand. 

"  Ay,  ay,  sir  !  "  came  the  ready  response  of 
his  early  training. 

"  Come  aft,  sir.  Mr.  Sanford  wants  ye." 
The  "  sir "  was  merely  a  recognition  of  the 
captain's  rank. 


CAPTAIN  BRANDT  AT  THE  THROTTLE    29 

A  tall,  straight,  blue-eyed  young  fellow  of 
twenty-two,  with  a  face  like  an  open  book, 
walked  down  the  deck,  —  one  of  those  perfectly 
simple,  absolutely  fearless,  alert  men  found  so 
often  on  the  New  England  coast,  with  legs 
and  arms  of  steel,  body  of  hickory,  and  hands 
of  whalebone  :  cabin-boy  at  twelve,  common 
sailor  at  sixteen,  first  mate  at  twenty,  and  full 
captain  the  year  he  voted. 

Sanford  looked  him  all  over,  from  his  shoes 
to  his  cap.  He  knew  a  round  full  man  when 
he  saw  him.  This  one  seemed  to  be  without 
a  flaw.  Sanford  saw  too  that  he  possessed  that 
yeast  of  good  nature  without  which  the  best  of 
men  are  heavy  and  dull. 

"  Can  you  lift  these  blocks,  Captain  Brandt  ? " 
he  asked  in  a  hearty  tone,  more  like  that  of  a 
comrade  than  an  employer,  his  hand  extended 
in  greeting. 

"  Well,  I  can  try,  sir,"  came  the  modest 
reply,  the  young  man's  face  lighting  up  as  he 
looked  into  Sanford's  eyes,  where  he  read  with 
equal  quickness  a  ready  appreciation,  so  encour- 
aging to  every  man  who  intends  to  do  his  best. 

Captain  Brandt  and  every  member  of  the 
gang  knew  that  it  was  not  the  mere  weight  of 
these  enrockment  blocks  which  made  the  hand- 
ling of  them  so  serious  a  matter ;  twelve  tons 
is  a  light  lift  for  many  boat-derricks.  It  was 
the  fact  that  they  must  be  loaded  aboard  a  ves- 
sel not  only  small  enough  to  be  easily  handled 


30  CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

in  any  reasonable  weather,  but  with  a  water- 
draught  shoal  enough  to  permit  her  lying  safely 
in  a  running  tide  alongside  the  Ledge  while 
the  individual  blocks  were  being  lowered  over 
her  side. 

The  hangers-on  about  the  dock  questioned 
whether  any  sloop  could  do  this  work.  All 
winter,  in  fact,  they  had  discussed  it  about  the 
tavern  stoves. 

"  Billy,"  said  old  Marrows,  an  assumed  au- 
thority on  stone-sloops,  but  not  in  Sanford's 
employ,  although  a  constant  applicant,  "  I  ain't 
sayin'  nothin'  agin  her  beam,  mind,  but  she  's 
too  peaked  forrud.  'Nother  thing,  when  she's 
got  them  stones  slung,  them  chain-plates  won't 
hold  'er  shrouds.  I  wouldn't  be  s'prised  to 
see  that  mast  jerked  clean  out'er  her." 

Bill  Lacey,  the  handsome  young  rigger  to 
whom  the  remark  was  addressed,  leaned  over 
the  sloop's  rail,  scanned  every  bolt  in  her 
plates,  glanced  up  at  the  standing  rigging, 
tried  it  with  his  hand  as  if  it  were  a  tight-rope, 
and  with  a  satisfied  air  answered,  "Them 
plates  is  all  right,  Marrows,  —  it 's  her  b'iler 
that's  a-worryin'  me.  What  do  you  say,  Ca- 
leb ? "  turning  to  Caleb  West,  a  broad-shoul- 
dered, grizzled  man  in  a  sou'wester,  who  was 
mending  a  leak  in  a  diving-dress,  the  odor  of 
the  burning  cement  in  a  pan  beside  him  min- 
gling with  the  savory  smell  of  frying  pork 
coming  up  from  the  galley. 


CAPTAIN  BRANDT  AT  THE  THROTTLE    31 

"  Wall,  I  ain't  said,  Billy,"  replied  Caleb  in 
a  cheery  voice,  stroking  his  bushy  gray  beard. 
"Them  as  don't  know  better  keep  shet." 

There  was  a  loud  laugh  at  the  young  rigger's 
expense,  in  which  everybody  except  Lacey  and 
Caleb  joined.  Lacey's  face  hardened  under 
the  thrust,  while  Caleb  still  smiled,  a  quaint 
expression  overspreading  his  features,  —  one 
that  often  came  when  something  pleased  him, 
and  which  by  its  sweetness  showed  how  little 
venom  lay  behind  his  reproofs. 

"These  'ere  sloops  is  jes'  like  women,"  said 
George  Nickles,  the  cook,  a  big,  oily  man,  with 
his  sleeves  rolled  up  above  his  elbows,  a  greasy 
apron  about  his  waist.  He  was  dipping  a 
bucket  overboard.  "  Ye  can't  tell  nothin' 
about  'em  till  ye  tries  'em." 

The  application  of  the  simile  not  being  im- 
mediately apparent,  —  few  of  Nickles'  similes 
ever  were,  —  nobody  answered.  Lacey  stole  a 
look  af  Nickles  and  then  at  Caleb,  to  see  if  the 
shot  had  been  meant  for  him,  and  meeting  the 
diver's  unconscious  clear  blue  eyes,  looked  sea- 
ward again. 

Lonny  Bowles,  a  big  derrickman  from  Noank 
quarries,  in  a  red  shirt,  discolored  on  the  back 
with  a  pink  Y  where  his  suspenders  had 
crossed,  now  moved  nearer  and  joined  in  the 
discussion. 

"  She  kin  h'ist  any  two  on  'em,  an'  never 
wet  'er  deck  combin's.     I  seen  these  Cape  Ann 


32  CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

sloops  afore,  when  we  wuz  buildin'  Stonin'ton 
breakwater.  Ye  would  n't  believe  they  had  it 
in  'em  till  ye  see  'em  work.  Her  b'iler  's  all 
right." 

"Don't  you  like  the  sloop,  Caleb?"  said 
Sanford,  who  had  been  listening.  "  Don't  you 
think  she  '11  do  her  work  ?  "  he  continued,  mov- 
ing a  rebellious  leg  of  the  rubber  dress  to  sit 
the  closer. 

"  Well,  of  course,  sir,  I  ain't  knowed  'er  long 
'nough  to  swear  by  yit.  She 's  fittin'  for  loadin' 
'em  on  land,  maybe,  but  she  may  have  some 
trouble  gittin'  rid  of  'em  at  the  Ledge.  Her 
b'iler  looks  kind  o'  weak  to  me,"  and  the  mas- 
ter diver  bent  over  the  pan,  stirring  the  boiling 
cement  with  his  sheath-knife,  the  rubber  suit 
sprawled  out  over  his  knees,  the  awkward, 
stiff,  empty  legs  and  arms  of  the  dress  flopping 
about  as  he  patched  its  many  leaks.  Then  he 
added  with  a  quaint  smile,  "  But  if  Cap'n  Joe 
says  she  's  all  right,  ye  can  pin  to  her." 

Sanford  moved  a  little  closer  to  Caleb,  hold- 
ing the  pan  of  cement  for  him,  and  watching 
him  at  work.  He  had  known  him  for  years  as 
a  fearless  diver  of  marvelous  pluck  and  endur- 
ance ;  one  capable  of  working  seven  consecu- 
tive hours  under  water.  When  an  English  bark 
had  run  on  top  of  Big  Spindle  Reef  and  backed 
off  into  one  hundred  and  ten  feet  of  water,  the 
captain  and  six  of  the  crew  were  saved,  but 
the  captain's  wife,  helpless  in  the  cabin,  had 


CAPTAIN  BRANDT  AT  THE  THROTTLE    33 

been  drowned.  Caleb  had  gone  below,  cleared 
away  the  broken  deck  that  pinned  her  down, 
and  had  brought  her  body  up  in  his  arms.  His 
helmet  was  spattered  inside  with  the  blood 
that  trickled  from  his  ears,  owing  to  the  enor- 
mous pressure  of  the  sea.  This  had  been  not 
a  twelvemonth  since. 

The  constant  facing  of  dangers  had  made  of 
the  diver  a  quiet,  reticent  man.  There  was,  too, 
a  gentleness  and  restful  patience  about  him 
that  always  appealed  to  Sanford,  and  next  to 
Captain  Joe  he  was  the  one  man  on  the  work- 
ing force  whom  he  trusted  most.  Of  late  his 
pale  blue  eyes  had  shone  with  a  softer  light, 
as  if  he  were  perpetually  hugging  some  happi- 
ness to  himself.  Those  who  knew  him  best 
said  that  all  this  happy  gentleness  had  come 
with  the  girl  wife.  Since  he  had  entered  San- 
ford's  employment  he  had  married  a  second 
and  a  younger  wife,  —  a  mere  child,  the  men 
said,  young  enough  to  be  his  daughter,  too 
young  for  a  man  of  forty-five. 

And  yet  Caleb  was  not  an  old  man,  if  the 
possession  of  vigor  and  energy  meant  anything. 
His  cheeks  had  the  rosy  hue  of  perfect  health, 
and  his  step  was  lighter  and  more  agile  than 
that  of  many  men  half  his  years.  Only  his 
beard  was  gray.  Yet  he  was  called  by  his 
shipmates  old,  for  in  the  hard  working  world 
in  which  he  lived  none  but  the  earlier  years 
of  a  man's  life  counted  as  youth. 


34  CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

His  cabin,  a  small,  two-story  affair,  bought 
with  the  money  he  had  saved  during  his  fifteen 
years  on  the  Lightship  and  after  his  first  wife's 
death,  lay  a  short  distance  up  the  shore  above 
that  of  Captain  Joe,  and  in  plain  sight  of  the 
Screamer. 

When  Caleb  rose  to  wash  his  hands,  he 
caught  sight  of  a  blue  apron  tossing  on  its  dis- 
tant porch.  Bill  Lacey  saw  the  apron  too,  and 
had  answered  it  a  moment  later  with  a  little 
wave  of  his  own.  Caleb  did  not  notice  Billy's 
signal,  but  Captain  Joe  did,  and  a  peculiar  look 
filled  his  eye  that  the  men  did  not  often  see. 
In  his  confusion  Lacey  flushed  scarlet,  and 
upset  the  pan  of  cement. 

When  Nickles  announced  breakfast,  Captain 
Joe  soused  a  bucket  overboard,  rested  it  on  the 
rail  and  plunged  in  his  hands,  the  splashing 
drops  glistening  in  the  sunlight,  and  called 
out :  — 

"Come,  Mr.  Sanford, — breakfast's  ready, 
men."  Then,  waving  his  hand  to  Caleb  and  the 
others  who  had  been  discussing  the  Screamer, 
he  said,  laughing,  "  All  you  men  what 's  gittin' 
skeery  'bout  this  sloop  kin  step  ashore.  I  'm 
a-goin'  to  load  three  o'  them  stone  aboard  here 
after  breakfast,  if  I  roll  her  over  bottom  side 
up." 

Sanford  sat  at  the  head  of  the  table,  his 
back  to  the  companionway,  the  crew's  bunks 
within  reach  of  his  hand.      He  was  the  only 


CAPTAIN  BRANDT  AT  THE  THROTTLE    35 

man  who  wore  a  coat.  Set  out  before  him 
were  fried  eggs  sizzling  in  squares  of  pork ; 
hashed  potatoes,  browned  in  what  was  left  of 
the  sizzle  ;  saleratus  biscuit,  full  of  dark  spots  ; 
and  coffee  in  tin  cups.  There  was  also  a  small 
jug  of  molasses,  protected  by  a  pewter  top,  and 
there  was,  too,  a  bottle  of  tomato  catsup,  whose 
contents  were  indiscriminately  spattered  over 
every  plate. 

Long  years  of  association  had  familiarized 
Sanford  with  certain  rules  of  etiquette  to  be 
observed  at  a  meal  like  this.  Whoever  fin- 
ished first,  he  knew,  must  push  back  his  stool 
out  of  the  way  and  instantly  mount  to  the 
deck.  In  confined  quarters,  elbow-room  is  a 
luxury,  and  its  free  gift  a  courtesy.  He  also 
knew  that  to  leave  anything  on  his  plate  would 
have  been  regarded  as  an  evidence  of  extreme 
bad  manners,  suggesting  moreover  a  reflection 
upon  the  skill  of  the  cook.  It  was  also  a  part 
of  the  code  to  wipe  one's  knife  carefully  on 
the  last  piece  of  bread,  which  was  to  be  swal- 
lowed immediately,  thus  obliterating  all  traces 
of  the  repast,  except,  of  course,  the  bones, 
which  must  be  picked  clean  and  piled  on  one 
side  of  the  plate.  Captain  Joe  himself  never 
neglected  any  of  these  little  amenities. 

Sanford  forgot  none  of  them.  He  wiped  his 
knife  and  cleared  his  plate  as  carefully  as  any 
of  his  men.  He  drank  from  his  tin  cup,  and 
ate  his  eggs  and  fried  pork  too  with  the  same 


36  CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

zest  that  he  would  have  felt  before  one  of 
Sam's  choicest  breakfasts.  He  really  enjoyed 
these  repasts.  To  him  there  was  something 
wonderfully  inspiring  in  watching  a  group  of 
big,  strong,  broad-breasted,  horny-handed  labor- 
ing men  intent  on  satisfying  a  hunger  born  of 
fresh  air  and  hard  work.  There  was  an  eager- 
ness about  their  movements,  a  relish  as  each 
mouthful  disappeared,  attended  by  a  good 
humor  and  sound  digestion  that  would  have 
given  a  sallow-faced  dyspeptic  a  new  view  of 
life,  and  gone  far  toward  converting  a  dilettante 
to  the  belief  that  although  forks  and  napkins 
were  perhaps  indispensable  luxuries,  existence 
might  not  be  wholly  desolate  with  plain  fingers 
and  shirt -cuffs. 

Breakfast  over,  Captain  Joe  was  the  first 
man  on  deck.  He  had  left  his  pea-jacket  in 
the  cabin,  and  now  wore  his  every-day  outfit  — 
the  blue  flannel  shirt,  long  since  stretched  out 
of  shape  in  its  efforts  to  accommodate  itself 
to  the  spread  of  his  shoulders,  and  a  pair  of 
trousers  in  which  each  corrugated  wrinkle  out- 
lined a  knotted  muscle  twisted  up  and  down  a 
pair  of  legs  sturdy  as  rudder-posts. 

"  Come,  men  ! "  he  called  in  a  command- 
ing voice,  with  none  of  the  gentler  tones  heard 
at  the  breakfast-table.  "Pull  yourselves  to- 
gether. .  .  .  Bill  Lacey,  lower  away  that  hook 
and  git  them  chains  ready.  .  .  .  Fire  up,  Cap'n 
Brandt,  and  give  'er  every  pound  o'  steam  she  '11 


CAPTAIN  BRANDT  AT  THE  THROTTLE    37 

carry.  .  .  .  Here,  —  one  or  two  of  ye,  run  this 
'ere  line  ashore  and  make  her  bow  fast.  .  .  . 
Drop  that  divin'-suit,  Caleb ;  this  ain't  no  time 
to  patch  things." 

These  orders  were  volleyed  at  the  men  as  he 
stepped  from  the  sloop  to  the  wharf,  each  man 
springing  to  his  place  with  an  alacrity  seldom 
seen  among  men  of  other  crews.  Close  asso- 
ciation with  Captain  Joe  always  inspired  a  pe- 
culiar confidence  and  loyalty  not  only  among 
his  own  men,  but  in  all  the  others  who  heard 
his  voice.  His  personal  magnetism,  his  enthu- 
siasm, his  seeming  reckless  fearlessness,  and 
yet  extreme  caution  and  watchful  care  for  the 
safety  of  his  men,  had  created  among  his  em- 
ployees a  blind  confidence  in  his  judgment  that 
always  resulted  in  immediate  and  unquestioned 
obedience  to  his  orders,  no  matter  what  the 
risk  might  seem. 

The  sloop  was  now  lying  alongside  the 
wharf,  with  beam  and  stern  lines  made  fast  to 
the  outlying  water-spiles  to  steady  her.  When 
the  tackle  was  shaken  clear,  the  boom  was 
lowered  at  the  proper  angle  ;  the  heavy  chain 
terminating  in  an  enormous  S-hook,  which 
hung  directly  over  the  centre  of  one  of  the  big 
enrockment  blocks. 

Captain  Joe  moved  down  the  dock  and  ad- 
justed with  his  own  hands  the  steel  "Lewis" 
that  was  to  be  driven  into  the  big  trial  stone. 
Important  details  he  never  left  to  others.     If 


38  CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

this  Lewis  should  slip,  with  the  stone  suspended 
over  the  sloop's  deck,  the  huge  block  would 
crush  through  her  timbers,  sinking  her  in- 
stantly. 

The  Screamer's  captain  was  at  the  throttle, 
watching  the  steadily  rising  steam-gauge. 

"  Give  'er  a  turn  and  take  up  the  slack  !  " 
shouted  Captain  Joe. 

"  Ay,  ay,  sir  !  "  answered  the  skipper  quickly, 
as  the  cogs  of  the  hoisting-engine  began  to 
move,  winding  all  the  loose  slackened  "fall" 
around  the  drum,  until  it  straightened  out  like 
a  telegraph  wire. 

"  What 's  she  carryin'  now,  Cap'n  Bob  ?  " 
again  shouted  Captain  Joe. 

"  Seventy-six  pounds,  sir." 

"  Give  'er  time  —  don't  push  'er." 

A  crowd  began  to  gather  on  the  dock  :  fish- 
ermen and  workmen  on  their  way  to  the  village, 
idlers  along  the  shore  road,  and  others.  They 
all  understood  that  the  trial  of  the  sloop  was  to 
be  made  this  morning,  and  great  interest  was 
felt.  The  huge  stones  had  rested  all  winter  on 
this  wharf,  and  had  been  discussed  and  redis- 
cussed  until  each  one  outweighed  the  Pyra- 
mids. Loading  such  pieces  on  board  a  vessel 
like  the  Screamer  had  never  been  done  in  Key- 
port  before. 

Old  Marrows  whispered  certain  misgivings, 
as  he  made  fast  a  line  far  up  on  the  wharf. 
Some  of  the  listeners  moved  back  across  the 


CAPTAIN  BRANDT  AT  THE  THROTTLE    39 

road,  yielding  to  the  vague  fear  of  the  inexpe- 
rienced. Bets  were  offered  that  "her  mast 
would  be  tore  clean  out  of  her ; "  or  that 
"  she  'd  put  her  starboard  rail  under  water  afore 
she  'd  start  'em  ;  "  and  that  "  she  'd  sink  where 
she  lay." 

The  needle  of  the  gauge  on  the  sloop's 
boiler  revolved  slowly  until  it  registered  ninety 
pounds.  Little  puffs  of  blue  vaporless  steam 
hissed  from  the  safety-valve.  The  boiler  was 
getting  ready  to  do  its  duty. 

Captain  Joe  looked  aloft,  ordered  the  boom 
topped  a  few  inches,  so  that  the  lift  would  be 
plumb,  sprang  upon  the  sloop's  deck,  scruti- 
nized the  steam-gauge,  saw  that  the  rope  was 
evenly  wound  on  the  drum,  emptied  an  oil-can 
into  the  sunken  wooden  saddle  in  which  the 
butt  of  the  boom  rested,  followed  with  his  eye 
every  foot  of  the  manilla  fall  from  the  drum 
through  the  double  blocks  to  the  chain  hang- 
ing over  the  big  stone,  called  to  the  people  on 
the  dock  to  get  out  of  harm's  way,  saw  that 
every  man  was  in  his  place,  and  shouted  the 
order,  clear  and  sharp,  — 

"  Go  ahead  !  " 

The  cogs  of  the  drum  of  the  hoisting-engine 
spun  around  until  the  great  weight  began  to 
tell ;  then  the  strokes  of  the  steam-pistons 
slowed  down.  The  outboard  mooring-lines  were 
now  tight  as  standing  rigging.  The  butt  of 
the  boom  in  the  sunken  saddle  was  creaking 


40  CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

as  it  turned,  a  pungent  odor  from  the  friction- 
heated  oil  filling  the  air.  The  strain  increased, 
and  the  sloop  careened  toward  the  wharf  until 
her  bilge  struck  the  water,  drawing  taut  as 
bars  of  steel  her  outboard  shrouds.  Ominous 
clicks  came  from  the  new  manilla  as  its  twists 
were  straightened  out. 

Captain  Bob  Brandt  still  stood  by  the  throt- 
tle, one  of  his  crew  firing,  —  sometimes  with 
refuse  cotton  waste  soaked  in  kerosene.  He 
was  watching  every  part  of  his  sloop  then  un- 
der strain  to  see  how  she  stood  the  test. 

The  slow  movement  of  the  pistons  continued. 

The  strain  on  the  outboard  shroud  became 
intense.  A  dead  silence  prevailed,  broken 
only  by  the  clicking  fall  and  the  creak  of  the 
roller  blocks. 

Twice  the  safety-valve  blew  a  hoarse  note 
of  warning. 

Slowly,  inch  by  inch,  the  sloop  settled  in 
the  water,  stopped  suddenly,  and  quivered  her 
entire  length.  Another  turn  of  the  drum  on 
her  deck  and  the  huge  stone  canted  a  point, 
slid  the  width  of  a  dock  plank,  and  with  a 
hoarse,  scraping  sound  turned  half  round  and 
swung  clear  of  the  wharf ! 

A  cheer  went  up  from  the  motley  crowd  on 
the  dock. 

Not  a  word  escaped  the  men  at  work.  The 
worst  was  yet  to  come. 

The  swinging  stone  must  yet  be  lowered  on 
deck. 


CAPTAIN  BRANDT  AT  THE  THROTTLE     41 

"  Tighten  up  that  guy,"  said  Captain  Joe 
quietly,  between  his  teeth,  never  taking  his 
eyes  from  the  stone  ;  his  hand  meanwhile  on 
the  fall,  to  test  its  strain. 

Bill  Lacey  and  Caleb  ran  to  the  end  of  the 
dock,  whipped  one  end  of  a  line  around  a 
mooring-post,  and  with  their  knees  bent  to  the 
ground  held  on  with  all  their  strength.  The 
other  end  of  the  guy  was  fastened  to  the  steel 
S-hook  that  held  the  Lewis  now  securely  in 
the  stone. 

"  Easy  —  ea-s-y  !  "  said  Captain  Joe,  a  mo- 
mentary shadow  of  anxiety  on  his  face.  The 
guy  held  by  Caleb  and  Lacey  gradually  slack- 
ened. The  great  stone,  now  free  to  swing 
clear,  moved  slowly  in  mid-air  over  the  edge  of 
the  wharf,  passed  above  the  water,  cleared  the 
rail  of  the  sloop,  and  settled  on  her  deck  as 
gently  as  a  grounding  balloon. 

The  cheer  that  broke  from  all  hands  brought 
the  fishwives  to  their  porches. 


CHAPTER  IV 

AMONG  THE  BLACKFISH  AND  TOMCODS 

Hardly  had  the  men  ceased  cheering  when 
the  boom  was  swung  back,  another  huge  stone 
was  lifted  from  the  wharf,  and  loaded  aboard 
the  sloop.  A  third  followed,  was  lowered  upon 
rollers  on  the  deck  and  warped  amidships,  to 
trim  the  boat.  The  mooring-lines  were  cast 
off,  and  the  sloop's  sail  partly  hoisted  for  better 
steering,  and  a  nervous,  sputtering  little  tug 
tightened  a  tow-line  over  the  Screamer's  bow. 

The  flotilla  now  moved  slowly  out  of  the 
harbor  toward  the  Ledge.  Captain  Brandt 
stood  at  the  wheel.  His  face  was  radiant.  His 
boat  had  met  the  test,  just  as  he  knew  she 
would.  She  had  stood  by  him  too  many  times 
before  for  him  to  doubt  her  now. 

There  had  been  one  night  at  Rockport  when 
she  lay  till  morning,  bow  on  to  a  gale,  within  a 
cable's  length  of  the  breakwater.  This  saw- 
toothed  ledge,  with  the  new  floating  buoys  of 
Captain  Joe's,  could  not  frighten  him  after 
that. 

Yet  not  a  word  of  boasting  passed  his  lips. 
He  spun  his  wheel  and  held  his  peace. 


AMONG   THE   BLACKFISH  43 

When  the  open  harbor  was  reached,  the 
men  overhauled  the  boom-tackle,  getting  ready 
for  the  real  work  of  the  day.  Bill  Lacey  and 
Caleb  West  lifted  the  air-pump  from  its  case, 
and  oiled  the  plunger.  Caleb  was  to  dive  that 
day  himself,  —  work  like  this  required  an  expe- 
rienced hand,  —  and  find  a  bed  for  these  first 
three  stones  as  they  were  lowered  under  water. 
Lacey  was  to  tend  the  life-line. 

As  the  tug  and  sloop  passed  into  the  broad 
water,  Medford  Village  could  be  seen  toward 
the  southeast.  Sanford  adjusted  his  marine- 
glass,  and  focused  its  lens  on  Mrs.  Leroy's 
country-house.  It  lay  near  the  water,  and  was 
surmounted  by  a  cupola  he  had  often  occupied 
as  a  lookout  when  he  had  been  Mrs.  Leroy's 
guest,  and  the  weather  had  been  too  rough  for 
him  to  land  at  the  Ledge.  He  saw  that  the 
bricklayers  were  really  at  work,  and  that  the 
dining-room  extension  was  already  well  under 
way,  the  scaffolding  being  above  the  roof.  He 
meant,  if  the  weather  permitted,  to  stop  there 
on  his  way  home. 

Soon  the  Ledge  itself  loomed  up.  The  con- 
crete men  were  evidently  busy,  for  the  white 
steam  from  the  mixers  rose  straight  into  the 
still  air. 

An  hour  more  and  the  windows  on  the  lee 
side  of  the  shanty  could  be  distinguished,  and 
a  little  later,  the  men  on  the  platform  as  they 
gathered   to   await   the    approaching    flotilla. 


44  CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

When  they  caught  sight  of  the  big  blocks 
stored  on  the  Screamer's  deck,  they  broke  into 
a  cheer  that  was  followed  by  a  shrill  saluting 
whistle  from  the  big  hoisting-engine  on  the 
Ledge,  answered  as  cheerily  by  the  approach- 
ing tug.  Work  on  the  Ledge  could  now  begin 
in  earnest. 

If  Crotch  Island  was  like  the  back  of  a 
motionless  whale,  Shark's  Ledge  was  like  that 
of  a  turtle,  —  a  turtle  say  one  hundred  and 
fifty  feet  long  by  a  hundred  wide,  lying  in 
a  moving  sea,  and  always  fringed  by  a  ruffling 
of  surf  curls,  or  swept  by  great  waves  that 
rolled  in  from  Montauk.  No  landing  could 
ever  be  made  here  except  in  the  eddy  formed 
by  the  turtle  itself,  and  then  only  in  the  still- 
est weather. 

The  shell  of  this  rock-incrusted  turtle  had 
been  formed  by  dumping  on  the  original 
Ledge,  and  completely  covering  it,  thousands 
of  tons  of  rough  stone,  each  piece  as  big  as  a 
cart-body.  Upon  this  stony  shell,  which  rose 
above  high-water  mark,  a  wooden  platform  had 
been  erected  for  the  proper  storage  of  gravel, 
sand,  barrels  of  cement,  hoisting-engines,  con- 
crete mixers,  tools,  and  a  shanty  for  the  men. 
It  was  down  by  the  turtle's  side  —  down  below 
the  slop  of  the  surf  —  that  the  big  enrockment 
blocks  were  to  be  placed,  one  on  the  other, 
their  sides  touching  close  as  those  on  a  street 
pavement.     The  lowest  stone  of  all  was  to  be 


AMONG  THE  BLACKFISH  45 

laid  on  the  bottom  of  the  sea  in  thirty  feet  of 
water ;  the  top  one  was  to  be  placed  where  its 
upper  edges  would  be  thrust  above  its  splash. 
In  this  way  the  loose  rough  stones  of  the  tur- 
tle's shell  would  have  an  even  covering  and 
the  finished  structure  be  protected  from  the 
crush  of  floating  ice  and  the  fury  of  winter 
gales. 

By  a  change  of  plan  the  year  before,  a  deep 
hole  nearly  sixty  feet  in  diameter  had  been 
made  in  the  back  of  this  turtle  by  lifting  out 
these  rough  stones.  This  hole  was  now  being 
filled  with  concrete  up  to  low-water  level  and 
retained  in  form  by  circular  iron  bands.  On 
top  of  this  enormous  artificial  bedstone  was 
to  be  placed  the  tower  of  the  lighthouse  itself, 
constructed  of  dressed  stone,  many  of  the  sin- 
gle pieces  to  be  larger  than  those  now  on  the 
Screamer's  deck.  The  four  great  derrick- 
masts  with  "  twenty-inch  butts "  which  had 
been  ordered  by  telegraph  the  day  before  in 
Sanford's  office  were  to  be  used  to  place  these 
dressed  stones  in  position. 

The  situation  was  more  than  usually  ex- 
posed. The  nearest  land  to  the  Ledge  was 
Crotch  Island,  two  miles  away,  while  to  the 
east  stretched  the  wide  sea,  hungry  for  fresh 
victims,  and  losing  no  chance  to  worst  the 
men  on  the  Ledge.  For  two  years  it  had 
fought  the  captain  and  his  men  without  avail. 
The  Old  Man  of  the  Sea  hates  the  warning 


46  CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

voice  of  the  fog-horn  and  the  cheery  light  in 
the  tall  tower  —  they  rob  him  of  his  prey. 

The  tug  continued  on  her  course  for  half  a 
mile,  steered  closer,  the  sloop  following,  and 
gained  the  eddy  of  the  Ledge  out  of  the  racing 
tide.  Four  men  from  the  platform  now  sprang 
into  a  whaleboat  and  pulled  out  to  meet  the 
sloop,  carrying  one  end  of  a  heavy  hawser 
which  was  being  paid  out  by  the  men  on  the 
Ledge.  The  hawser  was  made  fast  to  the 
sloop's  cleats  and  hauled  tight.  The  tug  was 
cast  loose  and  sent  back  to  Keyport.  Out- 
board hawsers  were  run  by  the  crew  of  the 
whaleboat  to  the  floating  anchor-buoys,  to  keep 
the  sloop  off  the  stone-pile  when  the  enrock- 
ment  blocks  were  being  swung  clear  of  her 
sides. 

Caleb  and  Lacey  began  at  once  to  overhaul 
the  diving-gear.  The  air-pump  was  set  close 
to  the  sloop's  rail ;  and  a  short  ladder  was 
lashed  to  her  side,  to  enable  the  diver  to  reach 
the  water  easily.  The  air-hose  and  life-lines 
were  then  uncoiled. 

Caleb  threw  off  his  coat  and  trousers,  that 
he  might  move  the  more  freely  in  his  diving- 
dress,  and  with  Lonny  Bowles's  assistance 
twisted  himself  into  his  rubber  suit,  —  body, 
arms,  and  legs  being  made  of  one  piece  of  air- 
tight and  water-tight  rubber  cloth. 

By  the  time  the  sloop  had  been  securely 
moored,  and  the  boom-tackle  made  ready  to 


AMONG  THE  BLACKFISH  47 

lift  the  stone,  Caleb  stood  on  the  ladder  com- 
pletely equipped,  except  for  his  copper  helmet, 
the  last  thing  done  to  a  diver  before  he  sinks 
under  water.  Captain  Joe  always  adjusted  Ca- 
leb's himself.  On  Caleb's  breast  and  between 
his  shoulders  hung  two  lead  plates  weighing 
twenty-five  pounds  each,  and  on  his  feet  were 
two  iron-shod  shoes  of  equal  weight.  These 
were  needed  as  ballast,  to  overbalance  the 
buoyancy  of  his  inflated  dress,  and  enable  him 
to  sink  or  rise  at  his  pleasure.  Firmly  tied  to 
his  wrist  was  a  stout  cord,  —  his  life-line,  — 
and  attached  to  the  back  of  the  copper  helmet 
was  a  long  rubber  hose,  through  which  a  con- 
stant stream  of  fresh  air  was  to  be  pumped 
inside  his  helmet  and  suit. 

In  addition  to  these  necessary  appointments 
there  was  hung  over  one  shoulder  a  canvas 
haversack,  containing  a  small  cord,  a  chisel, 
a  water-compass,  and  a  sheath-knife.  The 
sheath-knife  is  the  last  desperate  resource  of 
the  diver  when  his  air-hose  becomes  tangled  or 
clogged,  his  signals  are  misunderstood,  and  he 
must  either  cut  his  hose  in  the  effort  to  free 
himself  and  reach  the  surface,  or  suffocate 
where  he  is. 

Captain  Joe  adjusted  the  copper  helmet,  and 
stood  with  Caleb's  glass  face-plate  in  his  hand, 
thus  leaving  his  helmet  open  for  a  final  order 
in  his  ear,  before  he  lowered  him  overboard. 
The  cogs  of  the  Screamer's  drum  began  turn- 


48  CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

ing,  followed  by  the  same  creaking  and  snap- 
ping of  manilla  and  straining  of  boom  that 
had  been  heard  when  she  was  loaded. 

Meanwhile  between  the  sea  and  the  sloop  a 
fight  had  already  begun.  The  current  which 
swept  by  within  ten  feet  of  her  bilge  curled 
and  eddied  about  the  buoy-floats,  tugging  at 
their  chains,  while  wave  after  wave  tried  to 
reach  her  bow,  only  to  fall  back  beaten  and 
snapping  like  hungry  wolves. 

The  Cape  Ann  sloop  had  fought  these  fights 
before  :  all  along  her  timber  rail  were  the  scars 
of  similar  battles.  She  had  only  to  keep  her 
bow-cheeks  from  the  teeth  of  these  murderous 
rocks,  and  she  could  laugh  all  day  at  their  open 
jaws. 

With  the  starting  of  the  hoisting-engine  the 
steam  began  to  hiss  through  the  safety-valve, 
and  the  bow-lines  of  the  sloop  straightened 
like  strands  of  steel.  Then  there  came  a 
slight,  staggering  movement  as  she  adjusted 
herself  to  the  shifting  weight.  Without  a 
sound,  the  stone  rose  from  the  deck,  cleared 
the  rail,  and  hung  over  the  sea.  Another 
cheer  went  up  —  this  time  from  both  the  men 
on  board  the  sloop  and  those  on  the  Ledge. 
Captain  Brandt  smiled  with  closed  lips.  Life 
was  easy  for  him  now. 

"  Lower  away,"  said  Captain  Joe  in  the 
same  tone  he  would  have  used  in  asking  for 
the  butter,  as  he  turned  to  screw  on  Caleb's 


AMONG  THE  BLACKFISH  49 

face-plate,  shutting  out  the  fresh  air,  and  giv- 
ing the  diver  only  pumped  air  to  breathe. 

The  stone  sank  slowly  into  the  sea,  the  dust 
and  dirt  of  its  long  outdoor  storage  discolor- 
ing the  clear  water. 

"  Hold  her,"  continued  Captain  Joe,  his  hand 
still  on  Caleb's  face-plate,  as  he  stood  erect  on 
the  ladder.  "  Stand  by,  Billy.  Go  on  with 
that  pump,  men,  —  give  him  plenty  of  air." 

Two  men  began  turning  the  handles  of  the 
pump.  Caleb's  dress  filled  out  like  a  balloon  ; 
Lacey  took  his  place  near  the  small  ladder,  the 
other  end  of  Caleb's  life-line  having  been  made 
fast  to  his  wrist,  and  the  diver  sank  slowly  out 
of  sight,  his  hammer  in  his  hand,  the  air  bub- 
bles from  his  exhaust-valve  marking  his  down- 
ward course. 

As  Caleb  sank,  he  hugged  his  arms  close  to 
his  body,  pressed  his  knees  together,  forcing 
the  surplus  air  from  his  dress,  and  dropped 
rapidly  toward  the  bottom.  The  thick  lead 
soles  of  his  shoes  kept  his  feet  down  and  his 
head  up,  and  the  breast-plates  steadied  him. 

At  the  depth  of  twenty  feet  he  touched  the 
tops  of  the  sea-kelp  growing  on  the  rocks 
below,  —  he  could  feel  the  long  tongues  of 
leaves  scraping  his  legs.  Then,  as  he  sank 
deeper,  his  shoes  struck  an  outlying  boulder. 
Caleb  pushed  himself  off,  floated  around  it, 
measured  it  with  his  arms,  and  settled  to  the 
gravel.      He  was  now  between   the  outlying 


So  CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

boulder  and  the  Ledge.  Here  he  raised  him- 
self erect  on  his  feet  and  looked  about :  the 
gravel  beneath  him  was  white  and  spangled 
with  starfish  ;  little  crabs  lay  motionless,  or 
scuttled  away  at  his  crunching  tread  ;  the  sides 
of  the  isolated  boulder  were  smooth  and  clean, 
the  top  being  covered  with  waving  kelp.  In 
the  dim,  greenish  light  this  boulder  looked  like 
a  weird  head,  —  a  kind  of  submarine  Medusa, 
with  her  hair  streaming  upward.  The  jagged 
rock-pile  next  it,  its  top  also  covered  with  kelp, 
resembled  a  hill  of  purple  and  brown  corn 
swaying  in  the  ceaseless  current. 

Caleb  thrust  his  hand  into  his  haversack, 
grasped  his  long  knife,  slashed  at  the  kelp  of 
the  rock-pile  to  see  the  bottom  stones  the 
clearer,  and  sent  a  quick  signal  of  "All  right 
—  lower  away  ! "  through  the  life-line,  to  Lacey, 
who  stood  on  the  sloop's  deck  above  him. 

Almost  instantly  a  huge  square  green  sha- 
dow edged  with  a  brilliant  iridescent  light  sank 
down  towards  him,  growing  larger  and  larger 
in  its  descent.  Caleb  peered  upward  through 
his  face-plate,  followed  the  course  of  the  stone, 
and  jerked  a  second  signal  to  Lacey's  wrist. 
This  signal  was  repeated  in  words  by  Lacey  to 
Captain  Brandt,  who  held  the  throttle,  and  the 
shadowy  stone  was  stopped  within  three  feet  of 
the  gravel  bottom.  Here  it  swayed  slowly, 
half  turned,  and  touched  on  the  boulder. 

Caleb  watched   the  stone  carefully  until  it 


AMONG  THE  BLACKFISH  51 

was  perfectly  still,  crept  along,  swimming  with 
one  hand,  and  measured  carefully  with  his  eye 
the  distance  between  the  boulder  and  the 
Ledge.  Then  he  sent  a  quick  signal  of  "  Lower 
—  all  gone,"  up  to  Lacey's  wrist.  The  great 
stone  dropped  a  chain's  link  ;  slid  halfway  the 
boulder,  scraping  the  kelp  in  its  course  ;  ca- 
reened, and  hung  over  the  gravel  with  one  end 
tilted  on  a  point  of  the  rocky  ledge.  As  it 
hung  suspended,  its  lower  end  buried  itself  in 
the  gravel  near  the  boulder,  while  the  upper 
lay  aslant  up  the  slope  of  the  rock-covered 
ledge. 

Caleb  again  swam  carefully  around  the  stone, 
opened  his  arms,  and  inflating  his  dress  rose 
five  or  six  feet  through  the  green  water,  floated 
over  the  huge  stone,  and  grasping  with  his 
bare  hand  the  lowering  chain  by  which  the 
stone  hung,  tested  its  strain.  The  chain  was 
as  rigid  as  a  bar  of  steel.  This  showed  that 
the  stone  was  not  fully  grounded,  and  there- 
fore dangerous,  being  likely  to  slide  off  at  any 
moment.  The  diver  now  sent  a  telegram  of 
short  and  long  jerks  aloft,  asking  for  a  crow- 
bar ;  hooked  his  legs  around  the  lowering  chain 
and  pressed  his  copper  helmet  to  the  chain 
links  to  listen  to  Captain  Joe's  answer.  A 
series  of  dull  thuds,  long  and  short,  struck  by 
a  hammer  above  —  a  means  of  communication 
often  possible  when  the  depth  of  water  is  not 
great  —  told  him  that  the  crowbar  he  had  asked 


52  CALEB   WEST,    MASTER   DIVER 

for  would  be  sent  down  at  once.  While  he 
waited  motionless,  a  blackfish  pressed  his  nose 
to  the  glass  of  his  face-plate,  and  scurried  off 
to  tell  his  fellows  living  in  the  kelp  how  strange 
a  thing  he  had  seen  that  day. 

A  quick  jerk  from  Lacey,  and  the  point  of 
the  crowbar  dangled  over  Caleb's  head.  In  an 
instant,  to  prevent  his  losing  it  in  the  kelp,  he 
had  lashed  another  and  smaller  cord  about  its 
middle,  and  with  the  bar  firmly  in  his  hand  laid 
himself  flat  on  the  stone.  The  diver  now  ex- 
amined carefully  the  points  of  contact  between 
the  boulder  and  the  hanging  stone,  inserted 
one  end  of  the  bar  under  its  edge,  sent  a  warn- 
ing signal  above,  braced  both  feet  against  the 
lowering  chain,  threw  his  whole  strength  on 
the  bar,  and  gave  a  quick,  sharp  pull.  The 
next  instant  the  chain  tightened ;  the  bar, 
released  from  the  strain,  bounded  from  his 
hand  ;  there  was  a  headlong  surge  of  the  huge 
shadowy  mass  through  the  waving  kelp,  and 
the  great  block  slipped  into  its  place,  stirring 
up  the  bottom  silt  in  a  great  cloud  of  water- 
dust. 

The  first  stone  of  the  system  of  enrockment 
had  been  bedded ! 

Caleb  clung  with  both  hands  to  the  lowering 
chain,  waited  until  the  water  cleared,  knocked 
out  the  Lewis  pin  that  held  the  S-hook,  thus 
freeing  the  chain,  and  signaled  "All  clear  — 
hoist."     Then  he  hauled  the  crowbar  towards 


AMONG  THE  BLACKFISH  53 

him  by  the  cord,  signaled  for  the  next  stone, 
moved  away  from  the  reach  of  falling  bodies, 
and  sank  into  a  bed  of  sea-kelp  as  comfortably 
as  if  it  had  been  a  sofa-cushion. 

These  breathing  spells  rest  the  lungs  of  a 
diver  and  lighten  his  work.  Being  at  rest  he 
can  manage  his  dress  the  better,  inflating  it  so 
that  he  is  able  to  get  his  air  with  greater  ease 
and  regularity.  The  relief  is  sometimes  so 
soothing  that  in  long  waits  the  droning  of  the 
air-valve  will  lull  the  diver  into  a  sleep,  from 
which  he  is  suddenly  awakened  by  a  quick  jerk 
on  his  wrist.  Many  divers,  while  waiting  for 
the  movements  of  those  above,  play  with  the 
fish,  watch  the  crabs,  or  rake  over  the  gravel 
in  search  of  the  thousand  and  one  things  that 
are  lost  overboard  and  that  everybody  hopes 
to  find  on  the  bottom  of  the  sea. 

Caleb  did  none  of  these  things.  He  was  too 
expert  a  diver  to  allow  himself  to  go  to  sleep, 
and  he  had  too  much  to  think  about  to  play 
with  the  fish.  He  sat  quietly  awaiting  his  call, 
his  thoughts  on  the  day  of  the  week  and  how 
long  it  would  be  before  Saturday  night  came 
again,  and  whether,  when  he  left  that  morning, 
he  had  arranged  everything  for  the  little  wife, 
so  that  she  would  be  comfortable  until  his  re- 
turn. Once  a  lobster  moved  slowly  up  and 
nipped  his  red  fingers  with  its  claw,  thinking 
them  some  tidbit  previously  unknown.  (The 
dress  terminates  at  the  wrist  with  a  waterproof 


54  CALEB   WEST,    MASTER   DIVER 

and  air-tight  band,  leaving  the  hands  bare.)  At 
another  time  two  tomcods  came  sailing  past, 
side  by  side,  flapped  their  tails  on  his  helmet, 
and  scampered  off.  But  Caleb,  sitting  comfort- 
ably on  his  sofa-cushion  of  seaweed  thirty  feet 
under  water,  paid  little  heed  to  outside  things. 
His  eyes  only  saw  a  tossing  apron  and  a  trim 
little  figure  on  a  cabin  porch,  as  she  waved 
him  a  last  good-by. 

In  the  world  above,  a  world  of  fleecy  clouds 
and  shimmering  sea,  some  changes  had  taken 
place  since  Caleb  sank  out  of  the  sunlight. 
Hardly  had  the  second  stone  been  made  ready 
to  be  swung  overboard,  when  there  came  a  sud- 
den uplifting  of  the  sea.  One  of  those  tramp 
waves  preceding  a  heavy  storm  had  strayed  in 
from  Montauk  and  was  making  straight  for  the 
Ledge. 

Captain  Joe  sprang  on  the  sloop's  rail  and 
looked  seaward,  and  a  shade  of  disappointment 
crossed  his  face. 

"  Stand  by  on  that  outboard  ha'sser !  "  he 
shouted  in  a  voice  that  was  heard  all  over  the 
Ledge. 

The  heavy  outboard  hawser  holding  the 
sloop  whipped  out  of  the  sea  with  the  sudden 
strain,  thrashed  the  spray  from  its  twists,  and 
quivered  like  a  fiddle-string.  The  sloop  stag- 
gered for  an  instant,  plunged  bow  under, 
careened  to  her  rail,  and  righted  herself  within 


AMONG  THE  BLACKFISH  55 

oar's  touch  of  the  Ledge.  Three  feet  from 
her  bilge  streak  crouched  a  grinning  rock  with 
its  teeth  set ! 

Captain  Joe  smiled  and  looked  at  Captain 
Brandt. 

"  Ain't  nothin'  when  ye  git  used  to 't,  Cap'n 
Bob.  I  ain't  a-goin'  ter  scratch  'er  paint.  Got 
to  bank  yer  fires.  Them  other  two  stone  '11 
have  to  wait  till  the  tide  turns." 

"  Ay,  ay,  sir,"  replied  the  skipper,  throwing 
the  furnace  door  wide  open.  The  danger  was 
passed  for  the  second  time,  and  in  the  final 
test  his  boat  had  proved  herself.  Yet  again 
he  did  not  boast.  There  was  only  a  fearless 
ready-to-meet-anything  air  about  him  as,  with 
shoulders  squared  and  head  up,  he  walked 
down  the  deck  and  said  to  Captain  Joe,  in  a 
tone  as  if  he  were  only  asking  for  information, 
but  without  the  slightest  shade  of  anxiety, 
"  If  that  'ere  ha'sser  'd  parted,  Cap'n  Joe,  when 
she  give  that  plunge,  it  would  'a'  been  all  up 
with  us,  —  eh  ? " 

"Yes,  —  'spec'  so,"  answered  the  captain, 
his  mind,  now  that  the  danger  had  passed, 
neither  on  the  question  nor  on  the  answer. 
Then  suddenly  awakening  with  a  look  of  in- 
tense interest,  "That  line  was  a  new  one, 
Cap'n  Bob.  I  picked  it  out  a-purpose ;  them 
kind  don't  part." 

Sanford,  who  had  been  standing  by  the  til- 
ler,  anxiously  watching  the  conflict  with  the 


56  CALEB   WEST,    MASTER    DIVER 

sea,  walked  forward  and  grasped  the  skipper's 
hand. 

"I  want  to  congratulate  you,"  he  said,  "on 
your  sloop  and  on  your  pluck.  It  is  not  every 
man  can  lie  around  this  stone-pile  for  the  first 
time  and  keep  his  head." 

Captain  Brandt  flushed  like  a  bashful  girl, 
and  turned  away  his  face.  "Well,  sir  —  ye 
see" —  He  never  finished  the  sentence.  The 
compliment  had  upset  him  more  than  the 
escape  of  the  sloop. 

All  was  bustle  now  on  board  the  Screamer. 
The  boom  was  swung  in  aboard,  lowered,  and 
laid  on  the  deck.  Caleb  had  been  hauled  up 
to  the  surface,  his  helmet  unscrewed,  and  his 
shoes  and  breast-plate  taken  off.  He  still  wore 
his  dress,  so  that  he  could  be  ready  for  the 
other  two  stones  when  the  tide  turned.  Mean- 
while he  walked  about  the  deck  looking  like  a 
great  bear  on  his  hind  legs,  his  bushy  beard 
puffed  out  over  his  copper  collar. 

During  the  interval  of  the  change  of  tide 
dinner  was  announced,  and  the  Screamer's 
crew  went  below  to  more  sizzle  and  dough- 
balls,  and  this  time  a  piece  of  corned  beef, 
while  Sanford,  Captain  Joe,  Caleb,  and  Lacey 
sprang  into  the  sloop's  yawl  and  sculled  for 
the  shanty  and  their  dinner,  keeping  close  to 
the  hawser  still  holding  the  sloop. 

The  unexpected  made  half  the  battle  at  the 


AMONG  THE  BLACKFISH  57 

Ledge.  It  was  not  unusual  to  see  a  southeast 
roll,  three  days  old,  cut  down  in  an  hour  to  the 
smoothness  of  a  mill-pond  by  a  northwest  gale, 
and  before  night  to  find  this  same  dead  calm 
followed  by  a  semi-cyclone.  Only  an  expert 
could  checkmate  the  consequences  of  weather 
manoeuvres  like  these.  Before  Captain  Joe, 
sitting  at  the  head  of  the  table,  had  filled  each 
man's  plate  with  his  fair  proportion  of  cabbage 
and  pork,  a  whiff  of  wind  puffed  in  the  bit  of 
calico  that  served  as  a  curtain  for  the  shanty's 
pantry  window,  —  the  one  facing  east.  Cap- 
tain Joe  sprang  from  his  seat,  and,  bareheaded 
as  he  was,  mounted  the  concrete  platforms  and 
looked  seaward.  Off  towards  Block  Island  he 
saw  a  little  wrinkling  line  of  silver  flashing  out 
of  the  deepening  haze,  while  toward  Crotch 
Island  scattered  flurries  of  wind  furred  the 
glittering  surface  of  the  sea  with  dull  splotches, 
—  as  when  one  breathes  upon  a  mirror.  The 
captain  turned  quickly,  entered  the  shanty,  and 
examined  the  barometer.  It  had  fallen  two 
points. 

"  Finish  yer  dinner,  men,"  he  said  quietly. 
"  That 's  the  las'  stone  to-day,  Mr.  Sanford. 
It 's  beginnin'  ter  git  lumpy.  It  '11  blow  a 
livin'  gale  o'  wind  by  sundown." 

A  second  and  stronger  puff  now  swayed  the 
men's  oilskins,  hanging  against  the  east  door. 
This  time  the  air  was  colder  and  more  moist. 
The   sky   overhead   had    thickened.      In   the 


58  CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

southeast  lay  two  sun-dog  clouds,  their  backs 
shimmering  like  opals,  while  about  the  feverish 
eye  of  the  sun  itself  gathered  a  reddish  circle 
like  an  inflammation. 

Sanford  was  on  the  platform,  reading  the 
signs  of  the  coming  gale.  It  was  important 
that  he  should  reach  Keyport  by  night,  and  he 
had  no  time  to  spare.  As  the  men  came  out 
one  after  another,  each  of  them  glanced  to- 
ward the  horizon,  and  quickening  his  move- 
ments fell  to  work  putting  the  place  in  order. 
The  loose  barrow  planks  were  quickly  racked 
up  on  the  shanty's  roof,  out  of  the  wash  of  the 
expected  surf;  an  extra  safety-guy  was  made 
fast  to  the  platform  holding  the  hoisting-en- 
gine, and  a  great  tarpaulin  drawn  over  the 
cement  and  lashed  fast.  Meanwhile  Captain 
Joe  busied  himself  in  examining  the  turn- 
buckles  of  the  holding-down  rods,  which  bound 
the  shanty  to  the  Ledge,  and  giving  them 
another  tightening  twist,  ordering  the  heavy 
wooden  shutters  for  the  east  side  of  the  shanty 
to  be  put  up,  and  seeing  that  the  stove-pipe 
that  stuck  through  the  roof  was  taken  down 
and  stored  inside. 

All  this  time  the  Screamer  tugged  harder 
at  her  hawser,  her  bow  surging  as  the  ever- 
increasing  swell  raced  past  her. 

Orders  to  man  the  yawl  were  now  given 
and  promptly  obeyed. 

"  Keep  everything  snug,  Caleb,  while  I  'm 


AMONG  THE  BLACKFISH  59 

gone!"  Captain  Joe  shouted,  as  he  stepped  into 
the  boat.  "  It  looks  soapy,  but  it  may  be  out 
to  the  nor'ard  an'  clear  by  daylight.  Sit  astern, 
Mr.  Sanford.  Pull  away,  men,  we  ain't  got  a 
minute." 

When  the  Screamer,  with  two  unset  stones 
still  on  her  deck,  bore  away  from  the  Ledge 
with  Sanford,  Captain  Joe,  and  Lacey  on 
board,  the  spray  was  flying  over  the  shanty 
roof. 

Caleb  stood  on  the  platform  waving  his 
hand.  He  was  still  in  his  diving-dress.  His 
helmet  only  had  been  removed,  and  his  bushy 
beard  was  flying  in  the  wind. 

"Tell  Betty  I  '11  be  home  for  Sunday,"  the 
men  heard  him  call  out,  as  they  flew  by  under 
close  reef. 


CHAPTER  V 

AUNTY   BELL'S   KITCHEN 

The  storm  was  still  raging,  the  wind  beating 
in  fierce  gusts  against  the  house  and  rattling 
the  window-panes,  when  Sanford  awoke  in  the 
low-ceiled  room  always  reserved  for  him  at  Cap- 
tain Joe's. 

"  Tumble  dirty,  ain't  it  ? "  the  captain  called, 
as  he  came  in  with  a  hearty  good-morning  and 
threw  open  the  green  blinds.  "  I  guess  she  '11 
scale  off;  it's  hauled  a  leetle  s'uth'ard  since 
daylight.  The  glass  is  a-risin',  too.  Aunty 
Bell  says  breakfas'  's  ready  jes'  's  soon 's  you 
be." 

"  All  right,  captain.  Don't  wait.  I  '11  come 
in  ten  minutes,"  replied  Sanford. 

Outside  the  little  windows  a  wide-armed  tree 
swayed  in  the  storm,  its  budding  branches  tap- 
ping the  panes.  Sanford  went  to  the  window 
and  looked  out.  The  garden  was  dripping,  and 
the  plank  walk  that  ran  to  the  swinging-gate 
was  glistening  in  the  driving  rain. 

These  changes  in  the  weather  did  not  affect 
his  plans.  Bad  days  were  to  be  expected,  and 
the  loss  of  time  at  an  exposed  site  like  that  of 


AUNTY  BELL'S   KITCHEN  61 

the  Ledge  was  always  considered  in  the  origi- 
nal estimate  of  the  cost  of  the  structure.  If 
the  sea  prevented  the  landing  of  stone  for  a 
day  or  so,  the  sloop,  as  he  knew,  could  load  a 
full  cargo  of  blocks  from  the  wharf  across  the 
road,  now  hidden  by  the  bursting  lilacs  in  the 
captain's  garden ;  or  the  men  could  begin  on 
the  iron  parts  of  the  new  derricks,  and  if  it 
cleared,  as  Captain  Joe  predicted,  they  could 
trim  the  masts  and  fit  the  bands.  Sanford 
turned  cheerfully  from  the  window,  and  picked 
up  his  big  sponge  that  lay  by  the  tin  tub  Aunty 
Bell  always  filled  for  him  the  night  before. 

The  furniture  and  appointments  about  him 
were  of  the  plainest.  There  were  a  bed,  a 
wash-stand  and  a  portable  tub,  three  chairs,  and 
a  small  table  littered  with  drawing  materials. 
Dimity  curtains,  snow-white,  hung  at  the  win- 
dows, and  the  bureau  was  covered  with  a 
freshly  laundered  white  Marseilles  cover.  On 
the  walls  were  tacked  mechanical  drawings, 
showing  cross-sections  of  the  several  courses 
of  masonry,  —  prospective  views  of  the  con- 
crete base  and  details  of  the  cisterns  and  cellars 
of  the  lighthouse.  Each  of  these  was  labeled 
"  Shark  Ledge  Lighthouse.  Henry  Sanford, 
Contractor,"  and  signed,  "  W.  A.  Carleton,  Asst. 
Supt.  U.  S.  L.  Estb't."  In  one  corner  of  the 
room  rested  a  field  transit,  and  a  pole  with  its 
red-and-white  target. 

The  cottage  itself  was  on  the  main  shore 


62  CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

road  leading  from  the  village  to  Keyport  Light, 
and  a  little  removed  from  the  highway.  It  had 
two  stories  and  a  narrow  hall  with  rooms  on 
either  side.  In  the  rear  were  the  dining-room 
and  kitchen.  Overlooking  the  road  in  front 
was  a  wide  portico  with  sloping  roof. 

There  were  two  outside  doors  belonging  to 
the  house.  These  were  always  open.  They 
served  two  purposes,  —  to  let  in  the  air  and  to 
let  in  the  neighbors.  The  neighbors  included 
everybody  who  happened  to  be  passing,  from 
the  doctor  to  the  tramp.  This  constant  stream 
of  visitors  always  met  in  the  kitchen,  —  a  low- 
ceiled,  old-fashioned  interior,  full  of  nooks  and 
angles,  that  had  for  years  adapted  itself  to 
everybody's  wants  and  ministered  to  every- 
body's comfort,  —  and  was  really  the  cheeriest 
and  cosiest  room  in  the  house. 

Its  fittings  and  furnishings  were  as  simple  as 
they  were  convenient.  On  one  side,  opposite 
the  door,  were  the  windows,  looking  out  upon 
the  garden,  their  sills  filled  with  plants  in  win- 
ter and  sou'wester  hats  in  summer.  In  the  far 
corner  stood  a  pine  dresser  painted  bright  green, 
decorated  with  rows  of  plates  and  saucers  set 
up  on  edge,  besides  various  dishes  and  platters, 
all  glistening  from  the  last  touch  of  Aunty 
Bell's  hand  polish.  Next  to  the  dresser  was  a 
broad,  low  settle,  also  of  pine  and  also  bright 
green,  except  where  countless  pairs  of  overalls 
had  worn  the  paint  away.     Chairs  of  all  kinds 


AUNTY   BELL'S    KITCHEN  63 

stood  about,  —  rockers  for  winter  nights,  and 
more  ceremonious  straight-backs  for  meal-times. 
There  was  a  huge  table,  too,  with  always  a  place 
for  one  more,  and  a  mantel-rest  for  pipes  and 
knickknacks,  —  never  known  to  be  without  a 
box  of  matches  or  a  nautical  almanac.  There 
were  rows  of  hooks  nailed  to  the  backs  of  the 
doors,  especially  adapted  to  rubber  coats  and 
oilskins.  And  tucked  away  in  a  corner  under 
the  stairs  was  a  fresh,  sweet-smelling,  brass- 
hooped  cedar  bucket  with  a  cocoanut  dipper 
that  had  helped  to  cool  almost  every  throat 
from  Keyport  Village  to  Keyport  Light. 

But  it  was  the  stove  that  made  this  room 
unique :  not  an  ordinary,  commonplace  cooking- 
machine,  but  a  big,  generous,  roomy  arrange- 
ment, pushed  far  back  out  of  everybody's  way, 
with  out -riggers  for  broiling,  and  capacious 
ovens  for  baking,  and  shelves  for  keeping  things 
hot,  besides  big  and  little  openings  on  top  for 
pots  and  kettles  and  frying-pans,  of  a  pattern 
unknown  to  the  modern  chef ;  each  and  every 
one  dearly  prized  by  the  cheery  little  soul  who 
burnt  her  face  to  a  blazing  red  in  its  service. 
:  This  cast-iron  embodiment  of  all  the  hospitable 
virtues  was  the  special  pride  of  Aunty  Bell,  the 
J  captain's  wife,  a  neat,  quick,  busy  little  woman, 
about  half  the  size  of  the  captain  in  height, 
width,  and  thickness.  Into  its  recesses  she 
poured  the  warmth  of  her  heart,  and  from  out 
of  its  capacious  receptacles  she  took  the  pro- 


64  CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

ducts  of  her  bounty.  Every  kettle  sang  and 
every  griddle  "  sizzed  "  to  please  her,  and  every 
fire  crackled  and  laughed  at  her  bidding. 

When  Sanford  entered  there  was  hardly  room 
enough  to  move.  A  damp,  sweet  smell  of 
fresh  young  grass  came  in  at  an  open  window. 
Through  the  door  could  be  seen  the  wet  grav- 
eled walks,  washed  clean  by  the  storm,  over 
which  hopped  one  or  more  venturesome  robins 
in  search  of  the  early  worm. 

Carleton,  the  government  superintendent,  sat 
near  the  door,  his  chair  tilted  back.  In  the 
doorway  itself  stood  Miss  Mary  Peebles,  the 
schoolmistress,  an  angular,  thin,  mild-eyed  wo- 
man, in  a  rain  -  varnished  waterproof.  Even 
while  she  was  taking  it  off,  she  was  protesting 
that  she  was  too  wet  to  come  in,  and  could  not 
stop.  Near  the  stove  stooped  Bill  Lacey,  dry- 
ing his  jacket.  Around  the  walls  and  on  the 
window-sills  were  other  waifs,  temporarily  home- 
less, —  two  from  the  paraphernalia  dock  (regu- 
lar boarders  these),  and  a  third,  the  captain  of 
the  tug,  whose  cook  was  drunk. 

All  about  the  place  —  now  in  the  pantry,  now 
in  the  kitchen,  now  with  a  big'  dish,  now  with 
a  pile  of  plates  or  a  pitcher  of  milk — bustled 
Aunty  Bell,  with  a  smile  of  welcome  and  a 
cheery  word  for  every  one  who  came. 

Nobody,  of  course,  had  come  to  breakfast,  — 
that  was  seen  from  the  way  in  which  everybody 
insisted  he  had  just  dropped  in  for  a  moment 


AUNTY    BELL'S    KITCHEN  65 

out  of  the  wet  to  see  the  captain,  hearing  he 
was  home  from  the  Ledge,  and  from  the  alac- 
rity with  which  everybody,  one  after  another, 
as  the  savory  smells  of  fried  fish  and  soft  clams 
filled  the  room,  forgot  his  good  resolutions  and 
drew  up  his  chair  to  the  hospitable  board. 

Most  of  them  told  the  truth  about  wanting 
to  see  the  captain.  Since  his  sojourn  among 
them,  and  without  any  effort  of  his  own,  he 
had  filled  the  position  of  adviser,  protector,  and 
banker  to  half  the  people  along  the  shore.  He 
had  fought  Miss  Peebles's  battle,  when  the 
school  trustees  wanted  the  girl  from  Norwich 
to  have  her  place.  He  had  recommended  the 
tug  captain  to  the  towing  company,  and  had 
coached  him  over-night  to  insure  his  getting  a 
license  in  the  morning.  He  had  indorsed  Caleb 
West's  note  to  make  up  the  last  payment  on 
the  cabin  he  had  bought  to  put  his  young  wife 
Betty  in ;  and  when  the  new  furniture  had 
come  over  from  Westerly,  he  had  sent  two  of 
his  men  to  unload  it,  and  had  laid  some  of  the 
carpets  himself  on  a  Saturday  when  Betty  ex- 
pected Caleb  in  from  the  Ledge,  and  wanted  to 
have  the  house  ready  for  his  first  Sunday  at 
home. 

When  Mrs.  Bell  announced  breakfast,  Cap- 
tain Joe,  in  his  shirt-sleeves,  took  his  seat  at  the 
head  of  the  table,  and  with  a  hearty,  welcoming 
wave  of  his  hand  invited  everybody  to  sit  down, 
—  Carleton  first,  of  course,  he  being  the  man 


66  CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

of  authority,  and  representing  to  the  working- 
man  that  mysterious,  intangible  power  known 
as  the  "government." 

The  superintendent  generally  stopped  in  at 
the  captain's  if  the  morning  were  stormy  ;  it 
was  nearer  his  lodgings  than  the  farmhouse 
where  he  took  his  meals  —  and  then  breakfast 
at  the  captain's  cost  nothing.  He  had  come  in 
on  this  particular  day  ostensibly  to  protest  about 
the  sloop's  having  gone  to  the  Ledge  without  a 
notification  to  him.  He  had  begun  by  saying, 
with  much  bluster,  that  he  did  n't  know  about 
the  one  stone  that  Caleb  West  was  "  reported  " 
to  have  set ;  that  nothing  would  be  accepted 
unless  he  was  satisfied,  and  nothing  paid  for  by 
the  department  without  his  signature.  But  he 
ended  in  great  good  humor  when  the  captain 
invited  him  to  breakfast  and  placed  him  at  his 
own  right  hand.  Carleton  liked  little  distinc- 
tions when  made  in  his  favor ;  he  considered 
them  due  to  his  position. 

The  superintendent  was  a  type  of  his  class. 
His  appointment  at  Shark  Ledge  Light  had 
been  secured  through  the  efforts  of  a  brother- 
in-law  who  was  a  custom-house  inspector.  Be- 
fore his  arrival  at  Keyport  he  had  never  seen  a 
stone  laid  or  a  batch  of  concrete  mixed.  To 
this  ignorance  of  the  ordinary  methods  of  con- 
struction was  added  an  overpowering  sense  of 
his  own  importance  coupled  with  the  knowledge 
that  the  withholding  of  a  certificate  —  the  super- 


AUNTY   BELL'S    KITCHEN  67 

intendent  could  choose  his  own  time  for  giving 
it  —  might  embarrass  everybody  connected  with 
the  work.  He  was  not  dishonest,  however,  and 
had  no  faults  more  serious  than  those  of  igno- 
rance, self-importance,  and  conceit.  This  last 
broke  out  in  his  person  :  he  wore  a  dyed  mus- 
tache, a  yellow  diamond  shirt-pin,  and  on  Sun- 
days patent  leather  shoes  one  size  too  small. 

Captain  Joe  understood  the  superintendent 
thoroughly.  "  Ain't  it  cur' us,"  he  would  some- 
times say,  "  that  a  man 's  old  's  him  is  willin'  ter 
set  round  all  day  knowin'  he  don't  know  nothin', 
never  larnin',  an'  yit  alius  afeard  some  un  '11 
find  it  out  ?  "  Then,  as  the  helplessness  of  the 
man  rose  in  his  mind,  he  would  add,  "Well, 
poor  critter,  somebody  's  got  ter  support  him  ; 
guess  the  guv'ment  's  th'  best  paymaster  fur 
him." 

When  breakfast  was  over,  the  skipper  of  the 
Screamer  dropped  in  to  make  his  first  visit, 
shaking  the  water  from  his  oilskins  as  he 
entered. 

"  Pleased  to  meet  yer,  Mis'  Bell,"  he  said  in 
his  bluff,  wholesome  way,  acknowledging  the 
captain's  introduction  to  Mrs.  Bell,  then  casting 
his  eyes  about  for  a  seat,  and  finally  taking  an 
edge  of  a  window-sill  among  the  sou' westers. 

"Give  me  your  hat  an'  coat,  and  do  have 
breakfast,  Captain  Brandt,"  said  Mrs.  Bell  in  a 
tone  as  hearty  as  if  it  were  the  first  meal  she 
had  served  that  day. 


68  CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

"  No,  thank  ye,  I  had  some  'board  sloop/' 
replied  Captain  Brandt. 

"Here,  cap'n,  take  my  seat,"  said  Captain 
Joe.  "  I  'm  goin'  out  ter  see  how  the  weather 
looks."  He  picked  up  the  first  hat  he  came  to, 
—  as  was  his  custom,  —  and  disappeared  through 
the  open  door,  followed  by  nearly  all  the  sea- 
faring men  in  the  room. 

As  the  men  passed  out,  each  one  reached  for 
his  hat  and  oilskins  hanging  behind  the  wooden 
door,  and  waddling  out  stood  huddled  together 
in  the  driving  rain  like  yellow  penguins,  their 
eyes  turned  skyward. 

Each  man  diagnosed  the  weather  for  himself. 
Six  doctors  over  a  patient  with  a  hidden  disease 
are  never  so  impressive  nor  so  obstinate  as  six 
seafaring  men  over  a  probable  change  of  wind. 
The  drift  of  the  cloud -rack  scudding  in  from 
the  sea,  the  clearness  of  the  air,  the  current  of 
the  upper  clouds,  were  each  silently  considered. 
No  opinions  were  given.  It  was  for  Captain 
Joe  to  say  what  he  thought  of  the  weather. 
Breaking  clouds  meant  one  kind  of  work  for 
them,  —  fitting  derricks,  perhaps,  —  a  con- 
tinued storm  meant  another. 

If  the  captain  arrived  at  any  conclusion,  it 
was  not  expressed.  He  had  walked  down  to 
the  gate  and  leaned  over  the  palings,  looking 
up  at  the  sky  across  the  harbor,  and  then 
behind  him  toward  the  west.  The  rain  trickled 
unheeded  down  the  borrowed  sou'wester  and 


AUNTY   BELL'S   KITCHEN  69 

fell  upon  his  blue  flannel  shirt.  He  looked  up 
and  down  the  road  at  the  passers-by  tramping 
along  in  the  wet :  the  twice-a-day  postman, 
wearing  an  old  army  coat  and  black  rubber 
cape ;  the  little  children  crowding  together 
under  one  umbrella,  only  the  child  in  the  mid- 
dle keeping  dry ;  and  the  butcher  in  the  meat 
wagon  with  its  white  canvas  cover  and  swing- 
ing scales.  Suddenly  he  gave  a  quick  cry, 
swung  back  the  gate  with  the  gesture  of  a  rol- 
licking boy,  and  threw  both  arms  wide  open  in 
a  mock  attempt  to  catch  a  young  girl  who 
sprang  past  him  and  dashed  up  the  broad  walk 
with  a  merry  ringing  laugh  that  brought  every 
one  to  the  outer  door. 

"  Well,  if  I  live !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Bell. 
"  Mary  Peebles,  you  jes'  come  here  an'  see 
Betty  West.  Ain't  you  got  no  better  sense, 
Betty,  than  to  come  down  in  all  this  soakin' 
rain  ?  Caleb  '11  be  dreadful  mad,  an'  I  don't 
blame  him  a  mite.  Come  right  in  this  minute 
and  take  that  shawl  off." 

"I  ain't  wet  a  bit,  Aunty  Bell,"  laughed 
Betty,  entering  the  room.  "  I  got  Caleb's  high 
rubber  boots  on.  Look  at  'em.  Ain't  they 
big  !  "  showing  the  great  soles  with  all  the  ani- 
mation of  a  child.  "  An'  this  shawl  don't  let  no 
water  through  nowhere.  Oh,  but  did  n't  it  blow 
round  my  porch  las'  night !  "  Then  turning  to 
the  captain,  who  had  followed  close  behind,  "  I 
think  you  're  real  mean,  Cap'n  Joe,  to  keep 


70  CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

Caleb  out  all  night  on  the  Ledge.  I  was  that 
dead  lonely  I  could' er  cried.  Oh,  is  Mr.  San- 
ford  here  ?  "  she  asked  quickly,  and  with  a  little 
shaded  tone  of  deference  in  her  voice,  as  she 
caught  sight  of  him  in  the  next  room.  "  I 
thought  he  'd  gone  to  New  York.  How  do  you 
do,  Mr.  Sanford  ? "  with  another  laugh  and  a  nod 
of  her  head,  which  Sanford  as  kindly  returned. 

"We  come  purty  nigh  leavin'  everybody  on 
the  Ledge  las'  night,  Betty,  an'  the  sloop  too," 
said  Captain  Joe,  "cutting"  his  eye  at  the 
skipper  as  he  spoke.  Then  in  a  more  serious 
tone,  "  I  lef '  Caleb  a-purpose,  child.  We  got 
some  stavin'  big  derricks  to  set,  an'  Mr.  Sanford 
wants  'em  up  week  arter  next,  an'  there  ain't 
nobody  kin  fix  the  anchor  sockets  but  me  an* 
Caleb.  He 's  at  work  on  'em  now,  an'  I  had  to 
come  back  to  git  th'  bands  on  'em.  He  '11  be 
home  for  Sunday,  little  gaL" 

"  Well,  you  jes'  better,  or  I  '11  lock  up  my 
place  an'  come  right  down  here  to  Aunty  Bell. 
Caleb  was  n't  home  but  two  nights  last  week, 
and  it 's  only  the  beginnin'  of  summer.  I  ain't 
like  Aunty  Bell,  —  she  can't  get  lonely.  Don't 
make  no  difference  whether  you're  home  or 
not,  this  place  is  so  chuck-full  of  folks  you 
can't  turn  round,  in  it ;  but  'way  up  where  I 
live,  you  don't  see  a  soul  sometimes  all  day  but 
a  peddler.  Oh,  I  jes'  can't  stand  it,  an'  I  won't. 
Land  sakes,  Aunty  Bell,  what  a  lot  of  folks 
you  've  had  for  breakfast ! " 


'    ■    . 


"Swung  back  the  gate  with  the  gesture  of  a  rollicking  boy  " 


AUNTY   BELL'S    KITCHEN  71 

With  another  laugh  she  turned  to  the  table, 
picked  up  a  pile  of  plates,  and  carried  them 
into  the  pantry  to  Miss  Peebles,  who  was  there 
helping  in  the  wash-up. 

Lacey,  who  had  stopped  to  look  after  his 
drying  coat  when  the  men  went  out,  watched 
her  slender,  graceful  figure,  and  bright,  cheery, 
joyous  face,  full  of  dimples  and  color  and 
sparkle,  the  hair  in  short  curls  all  over  her  head, 
the  throat  plump  and  white,  the  little  ears  nes- 
tling and  half  hidden. 

She  had  been  brought  up  in  the  next  village, 
two  miles  away,  and  had  come  over  every  morn- 
ing, when  she  was  a  girl,  to  Miss  Peebles's 
school.  Almost  everybody  knew  her  and  loved 
her ;  Captain  Joe  as  much  as  if  she  had  been 
his  own  child.  She  filled  a  place  in  his  heart 
of  which  he  seldom  spoke,  —  never  to  Aunty 
Bell,  —  a  place  empty  until  Betty  came,  and  al- 
ways aching  since  he  and  his  wife  had  laid 
away,  on  the  hill  back  of  the  village  church, 
the  only  child  that  had  ever  come  to  them. 

When  Caleb  gave  up  the  lightship  Captain 
Joe  had  established  him  with  Betty's  mother 
as  boarder,  and  that  was  how  the  marriage 
came  about. 

When  Betty  returned  to  the  room  again,  her 
arms  loaded  with  plates,  Carleton  and  Lacey 
were  standing. 

"  Take  this  seat ;  you  must  be  tired  walking 
down   so   far,"    said   Carleton,  with  a  manner 


72  CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

never  seen  in  him  except  when  some  pretty 
woman  was  about. 

"  No,  I  'm  not  a  bit  tired,  but  I  '11  set  down 
till  I  get  these  boots  off.  Aunty  Bell,  can  you 
lend  me  a  pair  of  slippers  ?  One  of  these  plaguy 
boots  leaks." 

"  I  '11  take  'em  off,"  offered  Carleton,  with  a 
gesture  of  gallantry. 

"  You  '11  do  nothin'  of  the  kind  ! "  she  ex- 
claimed, with  a  toss  of  her  head.  "  I  '11  take 
'em  off  myself,"  and  she  turned  her  back,  and 
slipped  the  boots  from  under  her  dress.  "  But 
you  can  take  'em  to  Aunty  Bell  an'  swap  'em 
for  her  slippers,"  she  added,  with  a  merry 
laugh  at  the  humor  of  her  making  the  immacu- 
late Carleton  carry  off  Caleb's  old  boots.  The 
slippers  on,  she  thanked  him,  with  a  nod,  and, 
turning  her  head,  caught  sight  of  Lacey. 

"What  are  you  doing  here,  Bill  Lacey?" 
she  asked.     "  Why  ain't  you  at  the  Ledge  ? " 

Although  the  young  rigger  had  been  but  a 
short  time  on  the  captain's  force,  he  had  em- 
ployed every  leisure  moment  of  it  in  making 
himself  agreeable  to  the  wives  of  the  men.  To 
Betty  his  attentions  had  been  most  marked. 

He  had  saved  her  the  best  of  the  long  thin 
shavings  that  curled  from  his  spoke-shave  when 
he  was  planing  the  huge  derrick  masts  on  the 
wharf.  And  when  she  came  to  gather  them  as 
kindling  for  her  stove,  he  had  done  everything 
in  his  power  to  win  her  confidence,  detaining 


AUNTY   BELL'S    KITCHEN  73 

her  in  talk  long  after  the  other  women  had  de- 
parted with  their  loads. 

When  he  answered  her  sally  to-day,  his  white 
teeth  gleamed  under  his  curling  mustache. 

"  Captain  wants  me,"  he  said,  "  to  fit  some 
bands  round  the  new  derricks.  We  expect  'em 
over  from  Medford  to-day,  if  it  clears  up." 

"An'  there  ain't  no  doubt  but  what  ye  '11  get 
yer  job,  Billy,"  burst  out  the  captain  ;  "  it 's 
breakin'  now  over  Crotch  Island,"  and  he 
bustled  again  out  of  the  open  door,  the  men 
who  had  followed  him  turning  back  after  him. 

Carleton  waited  until  he  became  convinced 
that  no  part  of  his  immaculate  personality 
burdened  Betty's  mind,  and  then,  a  little  dis- 
concerted by  her  evident  preference  for  Lacey, 
joined  Sanford  in  the  next  room.  There  he 
renewed  his  complaint  about  the  enrockment 
block  having  been  placed  without  a  notification 
to  him,  and  it  was  not  until  Sanford  invited 
him  on  the  tug  for  a  run  to  Medford  to  inspect 
Mrs.  Leroy's  new  dining-room  that  he  became 
pacified. 

As  Mrs.  Bell  and  the  schoolmistress,  Miss 
Peebles,  were  still  in  the  pantry,  a  rattling  of 
china  marking  their  progress,  the  kitchen  was 
empty  except  for  Lacey  and  Betty.  The  young 
rigger,  seeing  no  one  within  hearing,  crossed 
the  room,  and,  bending  over  Betty's  chair,  said 
in  a  low  tone,  "  Why  did  n't  you  come  down 
to  the  dock  yesterday  when  we  was  a-hoistin' 


74  CALEB  WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

the(  stone  on  the  Screamer?  'Most  everybody 
'longshore  was  there.  I  had  some  chips  saved 
for  ye." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know,"  returned  Betty  indif- 
ferently. 

"Ye  ought'er  seen  the  old  man  yesterday," 
continued  Lacey ;  "  me  an'  him  held  the  guy, 
and  he  was  a-blowin'  like  a  porpoise." 

Betty  did  not  answer.  She  knew  how  old 
Caleb  was. 

"  Had  n't  been  for  me  it  would'er  laid  him 
out." 

The  girl  started,  and  her  eyes  flashed.  "  Bill 
Lacey,  Caleb  knows  more  in  a  minute  than 
you  ever  will  in  your  whole  life.  You  shan't 
talk  that  way  about  him,  neither." 

"Well,  who  's  a-talkin'  ? "  said  Lacey,  looking 
down  at  her,  more  occupied  with  the  curve  of 
her  throat  than  with  his  reply. 

"You  are,  an'  you  know  it,"  she  answered 
sharply. 

"  I  did  n't  mean  nothin',  Betty.  I  ain't  got 
nothin'  agin  him  'cept  his  gittin'  you!'  Then 
in  a  lower  tone,  "  You  need  n't  take  my  head 
off,  if  I  did  say  it." 

"I  ain't  takin'  your  head  off,  Billy."  She 
looked  into  his  eyes  for  the  first  time,  her  voice 
softening.  She  was  never  angry  with  any  one 
for  long;  besides,  she  felt  older  than  he,  and 
a  certain  boyishness  in  him  appealed  to  her. 

"You  spoke  awful  cross,"  he  said,  bending 


AUNTY   BELL'S    KITCHEN  75 

until  his  lips  almost  touched  her  curls,  "  an'  you 
know,  Betty,  there  ain't  a  girl,  married  or  single, 
up  'n'  down  this  shore  nor  nowheres  else,  that  I 
think  as  much  of  as  I  do  you,  an'  if  "  — 

"  Here,  now,  Bill  Lacey ! "  some  one  shouted. 

The  young  rigger  stepped  back,  and  turned 
his  head. 

Captain  Joe  was  standing  in  the  doorway,  with 
one  hand  on  the  frame,  an  ugly,  determined 
expression  filling  his  eyes. 

"They  want  ye  down  ter  the  dock,  young 
feller,  jes'  's  quick  's  ye  kin  get  there." 

Lacey's  face  was  scarlet.  He  looked  at  Cap- 
tain Joe,  picked  up  his  hat,  and  walked  down 
the  garden  path  without  a  word. 

Betty  ran  in  to  Aunty  Bell. 

When  the  two  men  reached  the  swinging-gate, 
Captain  Joe  laid  his  hand  on  Lacey's  shoulder, 
whirled  him  round  suddenly,  and  said  in  a  calm, 
decided  voice  that  carried  conviction  in  every 
tone,  "  I  don't  say  nothin',  an'  maybe  ye  don't 
mean  nothin',  but  I  've  been  a-watchin'  ye  lately, 
an'  I  don't  like  yer  ways.  One  thing,  howsom- 
ever,  I  '11  tell  ye,  an'  I  don't  want  ye  ter  forgit 
it :  if  I  ever  ketch  ye  a-foolin'  round  Caleb 
West's  lobster-pots,  I  '11  break  yer  damned 
head.     Do  ye  hear  ?  " 


CHAPTER  VI 

A    LITTLE    DINNER   FOR   FIVE 

Sanford's  apartments  were  in  gala-dress. 
Everywhere  there  was  a  suggestion  of  spring 
in  all  its  brightness  and  promise.  The  divans 
of  the  salon  were  gay  with  new  cushions  of 
corn-yellow  and  pale  green.  The  big  table  was 
resplendent  in  a  new  cloth,  —  a  piece  of  richly 
colored  Oriental  stuff  that  had  been  packed 
away  and  forgotten  in  the  Venetian  wedding- 
chest  that  stood  near  the  window.  All  the  pipes, 
tobacco  pouches,  smoking- jackets,  slippers, 
canes,  Indian  clubs,  dumb-bells,  and  other  bach- 
elor belongings  scattered  about  the  rooms  had 
been  tucked  out  of  sight,  while  books  and 
magazines  that  had  lain  for  weeks  heaped  up 
on  chairs  and  low  shelves,  and  unframed  prints 
and  photographs  that  had  rested  on  the  floor 
propped  up  against  the  wall  and  furniture,  had 
been  hidden  in  dark  corners  or  hived  in  their 
several  portfolios. 

On  the  table  stood  a  brown  majolica  jar 
taller  than  the  lamp,  holding  a  great  mass  of 
dogwood  and  apple  blossoms,  their  perfume 
filling  the  room.     Every  vase,   umbrella  jar, 


A   LITTLE    DINNER   FOR   FIVE  77 

jug,  and  bit  of  pottery  that  could  be  pressed 
into  service,  was  doing  duty  as  flower-holder, 
while  over  the  mantel  and  along  the  tops  of 
the  bookcases,  and  even  over  the  doors  them- 
selves, streamed  festoons  of  blossoms  inter- 
twined with  smilax  and  trailing  vines. 

Against  the  tapestries  covering  the  walls  of 
the  dining-room  hung  big  wreaths  of  laurel  tied 
with  ribbons.  One  of  these  was  studded  with 
violets,  forming  the  initials  H.  S.  The  mantel 
was  a  bank  of  flowers.  From  the  four  antique 
silver  church  lamps  suspended  in  the  four  cor- 
ners of  the  room  swung  connecting  festoons  of 
smilax  and  blossoms.  The  dinner-table  itself 
was  set  with  the  best  silver,  glass,  and  appoint- 
ments that  Sanford  possessed.  Some  painted 
shades  he  had  never  seen  before  topped  the  tall 
wax  candles. 

Sanford  smiled  when  he  saw  that  covers  had 
been  laid  for  but  five.  That  clever  fellow  Jack 
Hardy  had  carried  his  point,  —  all  those  deli- 
cate questions  relating  to  the  number  and  the 
selection  of  the  guests  had  been  left  to  Mrs. 
Leroy.  She  had  proved  her  exquisite  tact :  Bock 
had  been  omitted,  there  were  no  superfluous 
women,  and  Jack  could  have  his  tete-a-tete  with 
Helen  undisturbed.  It  was  just  as  well,  San- 
ford thought.  With  these  two  young  persons 
happy,  the  dinner  was  sure  to  be  a  success. 

Upon  entering  his  office,  he  found  that  the 
decorative  raid  had  extended  even  to  this  his 


78  CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

most  private  domain.  The  copper  helmet  of  a 
diving-dress  —  one  he  sometimes  used  himself 
when  necessity  required  —  had  been  propped 
up  over  his  desk,  the  face-plate  unscrewed,  and 
the  hollow  opening  filled  with  blossoms,  their 
leaves  curling  about  the  brass  buttons  of  the 
collar.  The  very  drawing-boards  had  been 
pushed  against  the  wall,  and  the  rows  of  shelves 
holding  his  charts  and  detailed  plans  had  been 
screened  from  sight  by  a  piece  of  Venetian 
silk  exhumed  from  the  capacious  interior  of  the 
old  chest. 

The  corners  of  Sam's  mouth  touched  his 
ears  when  Sanford  looked  at  him,  and  every 
tooth  was  lined  up  with  a  broad  grin. 

"  Doan'  ask  me  who  done  it,  sah.  I  ain't 
had  nuffin  to  do  wid  it,  —  wid  nuffin  but  de 
table.     I  sot  dat." 

"Has  Mrs.  Leroy  been  here?"  Sanford 
asked,  coming  into  the  dining-room,  and  looking 
again  at  the  initials  on  the  wall.  He  knew  that 
Jack  could  never  have  perfected  the  delicate 
touch  alone. 

"  Yaas  'r,  an'  Major  Slocomb  an'  Mr.  Hardy 
done  come  too.  De  gen'lemen  bofe  gone  ober 
to  de  club.  De  major  say  he  comin'  back 
soon 's  ever  you  gets  here.  But  I  ain't  ter  tell 
nuffin  'bout  de  flowers,  sah.  Massa  Jack  say 
ef  I  do  he  brek  my  neck,  an'  I  'spec's  he  will. 
But  Lord,  sah,  dese  ain't  no  flowers.  Look  at 
dis,"  he  added,  uncovering  a  great  bunch  of 


A   LITTLE   DINNER   FOR   FIVE  79 

American  Beauties,  —  "  dat  's  ter  go  'longside 
de  lady's  plate.  An'  dat  ain't  ha'f  of  'em.  I 
got  mos'  a  peck  of  dese  yer  rose-water  roses  in 
de  pantry.  Massa  Jack  gwine  ter  ask  yer  to 
sprinkle  'em  all  ober  de  table-cloth  ;  says  dat 's 
de  way  dey  does  in  de  fust  famblies  South." 

"  Have  the  flowers  I  ordered  come  ? "  San- 
ford  asked,  as  he  turned  towards  the  sideboard 
to  fill  his  best  decanter. 

"  Yaas  'r,  got  'em  in  de  ice-chest.  But 
Massa  Jack  say  dese  yer  rose-water  roses  on 
de  table-cloth  's  a  extry  touch ;  don't  hab  dese 
high-toned  South'n  ladies  ebery  day,  he  say." 

Sanford  reentered  the  salon  and  looked 
about.  Every  trace  of  its  winter  dress  too  had 
gone.  Even  the  heavy  curtains  at  the  windows 
had  been  replaced  by  some  of  a  thin  yellow  silk. 

"That  's  so  like  Kate,"  he  said  to  himself. 
"  She  means  that  Helen  and  Jack  shall  be 
happy,  at  any  rate.  She 's  missed  it  herself, 
poor  girl.  It  's  an  infernal  shame.  Bring  in 
the  roses,  Sam :  I  '11  sprinkle  them  now  before 
I  dress.  Any  letters  except  these  ?  "  he  added, 
looking  through  a  package  on  the  table,  a 
shade  of  disappointment  crossing  his  face  as 
he  pushed  them  back  unopened. 

"Yaas'r,  one  on  yo'  bureau  dat 's  jus' 
come." 

Sanford  forgot  Jack's  roses,  and  with  a  quick 
movement  of  his  hand  drew  the  curtains  of  his 
bedroom  and  disappeared  inside.      The  letter 


80  CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

was  there.  He  seldom  came  home  from  any 
journey  without  finding  one  of  these  little  mis- 
sives to  greet  him.  He  broke  the  seal  and  was 
about  to  read  the  contents  when  the  major's 
cheery,  buoyant  voice  was  heard  in  the  outside 
room.  The  next  instant  he  had  pushed  the 
curtains  aside  and  peered  in. 

"  Where  is  he,  Sam  ?     In  here,  did  you  say  ?  " 

Not  to  have  been  able  to  violate  the  seclusion 
of  Sanford's  bedroom  at  all  times,  night  or  day, 
would  have  grievously  wounded  the  sensibilities 
of  the  distinguished  Pocomokian  ;  it  would  have 
implied  a  reflection  on  the  closeness  of  their 
friendship.  It  was  true  he  had  met  Sanford 
but  half  a  dozen  times,  and  it  was  equally  true 
that  he  had  never  before  crossed  the  threshold 
of  this  particular  room.  But  these  trifling 
drawbacks,  mere  incidental  stages  in  a  rapidly 
growing  friendship,  were  immaterial  to  him. 

"My  dear  boy,"  he  cried,  as  he  entered  the 
room  with  arms  wide  open,  "but  it  does  my 
heart  good  to  see  you !  "  and  he  hugged  Sanford 
enthusiastically,  patting  his  host's  back  with  his 
fat  hands  over  the  spot  where  the  suspenders 
crossed.     Then  he  held  him  at  arm's  length. 

"  Let  me  look  at  you.  Splendid,  by  gravy  ! 
fresh  as  a  rose,  suh,  handsome  as  a  picture ! 
Just  a  trace  of  care  under  the  eyes,  though.  I 
see  the  nights  of  toil,  the  hours  of  suffering. 
I  wonder  the  brain  of  man  can  stand  it.  But 
the  building  of  a  lighthouse,  the  illumining  of 


A    LITTLE    DINNER   FOR   FIVE  81 

a  pathway  in  the  sea  for  those  buffeting  with 
the  waves,  — it  is  gloriously  humane,  suh  !  " 

Suddenly  his  manner  changed,  and  in  a  tone 
as  grave  and  serious  as  if  he  were  full  partner 
in  the  enterprise  and  responsible  for  its  success, 
the  major  laid  his  hand,  this  time  confidingly, 
on  Sanford's  shirt-sleeve,  and  said,  "  How  are 
we  getting  on  at  the  Ledge,  suh  ?  Last  time 
we  talked  it  over,  we  were  solving  the  problem 
of  a  colossal  mass  of  —  of  —  some  stuff  or  other 
that "  — 

"  Concrete,"  suggested  Sanford,  with  an  air 
as  serious  as  that  of  the  major.  He  loved  to 
humor  him. 

"That's  it, — concrete;  the  name  had  for 
the  moment  escaped  me,  —  concrete,  suh,  that 
was  to  form  the  foundation  of  the  lighthouse." 

Sanford  assured  the  major  that  the  concrete 
was  being  properly  amalgamated,  and  discussed 
the  laying  of  the  mass  in  the  same  technical 
terms  he  would  have  used  to  a  brother  engineer, 
smiling  meanwhile  as  the  stream  of  the  Poco- 
mokian's  questions  ran  on.  He  liked  the  major's 
glow  and  sparkle.  He  enjoyed  most  of  all  the 
never  ending  enthusiasm  of  the  man,  —  that 
spontaneous  outpouring  which,  like  a  bubbling 
spring,  flows  unceasingly,  and  always  with  the 
coolest  and  freshest  water  of  the  heart. 

"  And  how  is  Miss  Shirley  ?  "  asked  the  young 
engineer,  throwing  the  inquiry  into  the  shallows 
of  the  talk  as  a  slight  temporary  dam. 


82  CALEB   WEST,    MASTER   DIVER 

"  Like  a  moss  rosebud,  suh,  with  the  dew  on 
it.  She  and  Jack  have  gone  out  for  a  drive  in 
Jack's  cyart.  He  left  me  at  the  club,  and  I 
went  over  to  his  apartments  to  dress.  I  am 
staying  with  Jack,  you  know.  Helen  is  with  a 
school  friend.  I  know,  of  co'se,  that  yo'r  dinner 
is  not  until  eight  o'clock,  but  I  could  not  wait 
longer  to  grasp  yo'r  hand.  Do  you  know,  San- 
ford,"  with  sudden  animation  and  in  a  rising 
voice,  "  that  the  more  I  see  of  you,  the  more 
I"  — 

"  And  so  you  are  coming  to  New  York  to 
live,  major,"  said  Sanford,  dropping  another 
pebble  at  the  right  moment  into  the  very  middle 
of  the  current. 

The  major  recovered,  filled,  and  broke  through 
in  a  fresh  place.  The  new  questions  of  his  host 
only  varied  the  outlet  of  his  eloquence. 

"  Coming,  suh  ?  I  have  come.  I  have  leased 
a  po'tion  of  my  estate  to  some  capitalists  from 
Philadelphia  who  are  about  embarking  in  a 
strawberry  enterprise  of  very  great  magnitude. 
I  want  to  talk  to  you  about  it  later."  (He  had 
rented  one  half  of  it  —  the  dry  half,  the  half  a 
little  higher  than  the  salt-marsh  —  to  a  huckster 
from  Philadelphia,  who  was  trying  to  raise  early 
vegetables,  and  whose  cash  advances  upon  the 
rent  had  paid  the  overdue  interest  on  the  mort- 
gage, leaving  a  margin  hardly  more  than  suffi- 
cient to  pay  for  the  suit  of  clothes  he  stood  in, 
and  his  traveling  expenses.) 


A    LITTLE    DINNER   FOR    FIVE  83 

By  this  time  the  constantly  increasing  pres- 
sure of  his  caller's  enthusiasm  had  seriously 
endangered  the  possibility  of  Sanford's  dress- 
ing for  dinner.  He  glanced  several  times  un- 
easily at  his  watch,  lying  open  on  the  bureau 
before  him,  and  at  last,  with  a  hurried  "  Excuse 
me,  major,"  disappeared  into  his  bathroom,  and 
closed  its  flood-gate  of  a  door,  thus  effectually 
shutting  off  the  major's  overflow,  now  perilously 
near  the  danger-line. 

The  Pocomokian  paused  for  a  moment,  looked 
wistfully  at  the  blank  door,  and,  recognizing  the 
impossible,  called  to  Sam  and  suggested  a  cock- 
tail as  a  surprise  for  his  master  when  he  appeared 
again.  Sam  brought  the  ingredients  on  a  tray, 
and  stood  by  admiringly  (Sam  always  regarded 
him  as  a  superior  being)  while  the  major  mixed 
two  comforting  concoctions,  —  the  one  already 
mentioned  for  Sanford,  and  the  other  designed 
for  the  especial  sustenance  and  delectation  of 
the  distinguished  Pocomokian  himself. 

This  done  he  took  his  leave,  having  infused 
into  the  apartment,  in  ten  short  minutes,  more 
sparkle,  freshness,  and  life  than  it  had  known 
since  his  last  visit. 

Sanford  saw  the  cocktail  on  his  bureau  when 
he  entered  the  room  again,  but  forgot  it  in  his 
search  for  the  letter  he  had  laid  aside  on  the 
major's  entrance.  Sam  found  the  invigorat- 
ing compound  when  dinner  was  over,  and  im- 
mediately emptied  it  into  his  own  person. 


84  CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

"  Please  don't  be  cross,  Henry,  if  you  can't 
find  all  your  things,"  the  letter  read.  "Jack 
Hardy  wanted  me  to  come  over  and  help  him 
arrange  the  rooms  as  a  surprise  for  the  Mary- 
land girl.  He  says  there's  nothing  between 
them,  but  I  don't  believe  him.  The  blossoms 
came  from  Newport.  I  hope  you  had  time  to 
go  to  Medford  and  find  out  about  my  dining- 
room,  and  that  everything  is  going  on  well  at 
the  Ledge.     I  will  see  you  to-night  at  eight. 

K.  P.  L." 

Sanford,  with  a  smile  of  pleasure,  shut  the 
letter  in  his  bureau  drawer,  and  entering  the 
dining-room,  picked  up  the  basket  of  roses  and 
began  those  little  final  touches  about  the  room 
and  table  which  he  never  neglected.  He  lighted 
the  tapers  in  the  antique  lamps  that  hung  from 
the  ceiling,  readjusting  the  ruby  glass  holders; 
he  kindled  the  wicks  in  some  quaint  brackets 
over  the  sideboard  ;  he  moved  the  Venetian 
flagons  and  decanters  nearer  the  centrepiece  of 
flowers,  — those  he  had  himself  ordered  for  his 
guests  and  their  chaperon,  —  and  cutting  the 
stems  from  the  rose-water  roses  sprinkled  them 
over  the  snowy  linen. 

With  the  soft  glow  of  the  candles  the  room 
took  on  a  mellow,  subdued  tone ;  the  pink  roses 
on  the  cloth,  the  rosebuds  on  the  candle-shades, 
and  the  mass  of  Mermets  in  the  centre  being 
the  distinctive  features,  and  giving  the  key-note 
of  color  to  the  feast.    To  Sanford  a  dinner-table 


A    LITTLE    DINNER   FOR   FIVE  85 

with  its  encircling  guests  was  always  a  palette. 
He  knew  just  where  the  stronger  tones  of  black 
coats  and  white  shirt-fronts  placed  beside  the 
softer  tints  of  fair  shoulders  and  bright  faces 
must  be  relieved  by  blossoms  in  perfect  har- 
mony, and  he  understood  to  a  nicety  the  exact 
values  of  the  minor  shades  in  linen,  glass,  and 
silver,  in  the  making  of  the  picture. 

The  guests  arrived  within  a  few  minutes  of 
one  another.  Mrs.  Leroy,  in  yellow  satin  with 
big  black  bows  caught  up  on  her  shoulder,  a 
string  of  pearls  about  her  throat,  came  first : 
she  generally  did  when  dining  at  Sanford's  ;  it 
gave  her  an  opportunity  to  have  a  chance  word 
with  him  before  the  arrival  of  the  other  guests, 
and  to  give  a  supervising  glance  over  the  ap- 
pointments of  his  table.  And  then  Sanford 
always  deferred  to  her  in  questions  of  taste.  It 
was  one  of  the  nights  when  she  looked  barely 
twenty-five,  and  seemed  the  fresh,  joyous  girl 
Sanford  had  known  before  her  marriage.  The 
ever  present  sadness  which  her  friends  often 
read  in  her  face  had  gone.  To-night  she  was 
all  gayety  and  happiness,  and  her  eyes,  under 
their  long  lashes,  were  purple  as  the  violets 
which  she  wore.  Helen  Shirley  was  arrayed  in 
white  muslin,  —  not  a  jewel,  —  her  fair  cheeks 
rosy  with  excitement.  Jack  was  immaculate 
in  white  tie  and  high  collar,  while  the  self-in- 
stalled, presiding  genial  of  the  feast,  the  major, 
appeared  in   a   costume  that   by  its  ill-fitting 


86  CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

wrinkles  betrayed  its  pedigree,  —  a  velvet-col- 
lared swallow-tail  coat  that  had  lost  its  one- 
time freshness  in  the  former  service  of  some 
friend,  a  skin-tight  pair  of  trousers,  and  a  shoe- 
string cravat  that  looked  as  if  it  had  belonged 
to  Major  Talbot  himself  (his  dead  wife's  first 
husband),  and  that  was  now  so  loosely  tied  it 
had  all  it  could  do  to  keep  its  place. 

"  No  one  would  have  thought  of  all  this  but 
you,  Kate,"  said  Sanford,  lifting  Mrs.  Leroy's 
cloak  from  her  shoulders. 

"Don't  thank  me,  Henry.  All  I  did,"  she 
answered,  laughing,  "  was  to  put  a  few  flowers 
about,  and  to  have  my  maid  poke  a  lot  of  man- 
things  under  the  sofas  and  behind  the  chairs, 
and  take  away  those  horrid  old  covers  and  cur- 
tains. I  know  you  '11  never  forgive  me  when 
you  want  something  to-morrow  you  can't  find, 
but  Jack  begged  so  hard  I  could  n't  help  it. 
How  did  you  like  the  candle-shades  ?  I  made 
them  myself,"  she  added,  tipping  her  head  on 
one  side  like  a  wren. 

"  I  knew  you  did,  and  I  recognized  your 
handiwork  somewhere  else,"  Sanford  answered, 
with  a  significant  shrug  of  his  shoulders  towards 
the  dining-room,  where  the  initial  wreath  was 
hung. 

"  It  is  a  bower  of  beauty,  my  dear  madam!" 
exclaimed  the  major,  bowing  like  a  French 
dancing-master  of  the  old  school  when  Sanford 
presented    him,    one    hand    on    his    waistcoat 


fe^-.r:  l 


J> 


"  Helen  .  .  .  *'«  w^//,?  muslin  —  «<?/  «  jewel" 


A    LITTLE    DINNER    FOR   FIVE  87 

buttons,  the  right  foot  turned  slightly  out.  "  I 
did  not  know  when  I  walked  through  these 
rooms  this  afternoon  whose  fair  hands  had 
wrought  the  wondrous  change.  Madam,  I 
salute  you,"  and  he  raised  her  hand  to  his  lips. 

Mrs.  Leroy  looked  first  in  astonishment  as 
she  drew  back  her  fingers.  Then  as  she  saw 
his  evident  sincerity,  she  made  him  an  equally 
old-fashioned  curtsy,  and  broke  into  a  peal  of 
laughter. 

While  this  bit  of  comedy  was  being  enacted, 
Jack,  eager  to  show  Helen  some  of  Sanford's 
choicest  bits,  led  her  to  the  mantelpiece,  over 
which  hung  a  sketch  by  Smearly, — the  ori- 
ginal of  his  Academy  picture  ;  pointed  out  the 
famous  wedding-chest  and  some  of  the  accou- 
trements over  the  door ;  and  led  her  into  the 
private  office,  now  lighted  by  half  a  dozen  can- 
dles, one  illuminating  the  copper  diving-helmet 
with  its  face-plate  of  flowers.  Helen,  who  had 
never  been  in  a  bachelor's  apartment  before, 
thought  it  another  and  an  enchanted  world. 
Everything  suggested  a  surprise  and  a  mystery. 

But  it  was  when  she  entered  the  dining-room 
on  Sanford's  arm  that  she  gave  way  completely. 
"I  never  saw  anything  so  charming!  "  she  ex- 
claimed. "  And  H.  S.  all  in  a  lovely  wreath  — 
why,  these  are  your  initials,  Mr.  Sanford,"  look- 
ing up  innocently  into  his  eyes. 

Sanford  smiled  quizzically,  and  a  shade  of 
cruel  disappointment  crossed  Jack's  face.    Mrs. 


88  CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

Leroy  broke  into  another  happy,  contagious 
laugh,  and  her  eyes,  often  so  impenetrable  in 
their  sadness,  danced  with  merriment. 

The  major  watched  them  all  with  ill-disguised 
delight,  and,  beginning  to  understand  the  vary- 
ing expressions  flitting  over  his  niece's  face, 
said,  with  genuine  emotion,  emphasizing  his 
outburst  by  kissing  her  rapturously  on  the 
cheek,  "  You  dear  little  girl,  you,  don't  you  know 
your  own  name  ?  H.  S.  stands  for  Helen 
Shirley,  not  Henry  Sanford." 

Helen  gave  a  little  start,  avoiding  Jack's 
gaze,  and  blushed  scarlet.  She  might  have 
known,  she  said  to  herself,  that  Jack  would  do 
something  lovely,  just  to  surprise  her.  Why 
did  she  betray  herself  so  easily  ? 

When,  a  moment  later,  in  removing  her 
glove,  she  brushed  Jack's  hand,  lying  on  the 
table-cloth  beside  her  own,  the  slightest  possi- 
ble pressure  of  her  little  finger  against  his  own 
conveyed  her  thanks. 

Everybody  was  brimful  of  happiness  :  Helen 
radiant  with  the  inspiration  of  new  surround- 
ings so  unlike  those  of  the  simple  home  she 
had  left  the  day  before  ;  Jack  riding  in  a  chariot 
of  soap-bubbles,  with  butterflies  for  leaders, 
and  drinking  in  every  word  that  fell  from 
Helen's  lips ;  the  major  suave  and  unctuous, 
with  an  old-time  gallantry  that  delighted  his 
admirers,  boasting  now  of  his  ancestry,  now  of 
his  horses,  now  of  his  rare  old  wines  at  home ; 


A   LITTLE   DINNER   FOR   FIVE  89 

Sanford  leading  the  distinguished  Pocomokian 
into  still  more  airy  flights,  or  engaging  him  in 
assumed  serious  conversation  whenever  that 
obtuse  gentleman  insisted  on  dragging  Jack 
down  from  his  butterfly  heights  with  Helen,  to 
discuss  with  him  some  prosaic  features  of  the 
club-house  at  Crab  Island ;  while  Mrs.  Leroy, 
happier  than  she  had  been  in  weeks,  watched 
Helen  and  Jack  with  undisguised  pleasure,  or 
laughed  at  the  major's  good-natured  egotism, 
his  wonderful  reminiscences  and  harmless  pre- 
tensions, listening  between  pauses  to  the  young 
engineer  by  her  side,  whose  heart  was  to  her  an 
open  book. 

Coffee  was  served  on  the  balcony,  the  guests 
seating  themselves  in  the  easy-chairs.  Mrs. 
Leroy  selected  a  low  camp-stool,  resting  her 
back  against  the  railing,  where  the  warm  tones 
of  the  lamp  fell  upon  her  dainty  figure.  She 
was  at  her  best  to-night.  Her  prematurely 
gray  hair,  piled  in  fluffy  waves  upon  her  head 
and  held  in  place  by  a  long  jewel-tipped  pin,  gave 
an  indescribable  softness  and  charm  to  the  rosy 
tints  of  her  skin.  Her  blue-gray  eyes,  now 
deep  violet,  flashed  and  dimmed  under  the 
moving  shutters  of  the  lids,  as  the  light  of  her 
varying  emotions  stirred  their  depths.  About 
her  every  movement  was  that  air  of  distinction, 
and  repose,  and  a  certain  exquisite  grace  which 
never  left  her,  and  which  never  ceased  to  have 
its  fascination  for  her  friends.     Added  to  this 


9o  CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

were  a  sprightliness  and  a  vivacity  which, 
although  often  used  as  a  mask  to  hide  a  heavy 
heart,  were  to-night  inspired  by  her  sincere 
enjoyment  of  the  pleasure  she  and  the  others 
had  given  to  the  young  Maryland  girl  and  her 
lover. 

When  Sam  brought  the  coffee-tray  she  in- 
sisted on  filling  the  cups  herself,  dropping  in 
the  sugar  with  a  dainty  movement  of  her  fingers 
that  was  bewitching,  laughing  as  merrily  as  if 
there  had  never  been  a  sorrow  in  her  life.  At 
no  time  was  she  more  fascinating  to  her  ad- 
mirers than  when  at  a  task  like  this.  The 
very  cup  she  handled  was  instantly  invested 
with  a  certain  preciousness,  and  became  a  thing 
to  be  touched  as  delicately  and  as  lightly  as  the 
fingers  that  had  prepared  it. 

The  only  one  who  for  the  time  was  outside 
the  spell  of  her  influence  was  Jack  Hardy.  He 
had  taken  a  seat  on  the  floor  of  the  balcony, 
next  the  wall  —  and  Helen. 

"Jack,  you  lazy  fellow,"  said  Mrs.  Leroy, 
with  mock  indignation,  as  she  rose  to  her  feet, 
"get  out  of  my  way,  or  I  '11  spill  the  coffee. 
Miss  Shirley,  why  don't  you  make  him  go 
inside  ?     He 's  awfully  in  the  way  here." 

One  of  Jack's  favorite  positions,  when  Helen 
was  near,  was  at  her  feet.  He  had  learned 
this  one  the  summer  before  at  her  house  on 
Crab  Island,  when  they  would  sit  for  hours  on 
the  beach. 


A   LITTLE   DINNER   FOR   FIVE  91 

"  I  'm  not  in  anybody's  way,  my  dear  Mrs. 
Leroy.  My  feet  are  tied  in  a  Chinese  knot 
under  me,  and  my  back  has  grown  fast  to  the 
rain-spout.  Major,  will  you  please  say  some- 
thing nice  to  Mrs.  Leroy  and  coax  her  inside  ? " 

Sam  had  rolled  a  small  table,  holding  a  flagon 
of  cognac  and  some  crushed  ice,  beside  the 
major,  who  sat  half  buried  in  the  cushions  of 
one  of  Sanford's  divans.  The  Pocomokian 
struggled  to  his  feet. 

"You  mustn't  move,  major,"  Mrs.  Leroy 
called.  "  I  'm  not  coming  in.  I  'm  going  to 
stay  out  here  in  this  lovely  moonlight,  if  one  of 
these  very  polite  young  gentlemen  will  bring 
me  an  armchair."  With  a  look  of  pretended 
dignity  at  Jack  and  Sanford. 

"Take  my  seat,"  said  Jack,  with  a  laugh, 
springing  to  his  feet,  suddenly  realizing  Mrs. 
Leroy's  delicate  but  pointed  rebuke.  "Come, 
Miss  Helen,"  a  better  and  more  retired  corner 
having  at  this  moment  suggested  itself  to 
him,  "we  won't  stay  where  we  are  abused. 
Let  us  join  the  major."  And  with  an  arm  to 
Miss  Shirley  and  a  sweeping  bow  to  Mrs. 
Leroy,  Jack  walked  straight  to  the  divan  near- 
est the  curtains. 

When  Helen  and  Jack  were  out  of  hearing, 
Mrs.  Leroy  looked  toward  the  major,  and, 
reassured  of  his  entire  absorption  in  his  own 
personal  comfort,  turned  to  Sanford,  and  said 
in  low,  earnest  tones,  in  which  there  was  not  a 


92  CALEB   WEST,    MASTER   DIVER 

trace  of  the  gayety  of  a  moment  before,  "  Can 
the  new  sloop  lay  the  stones,  Henry?  You 
have  n't  told  me  a  word  yet  of  what  you  have 
been  doing  for  the  last  few  days  at  the  Ledge." 

"  I  think  so,  Kate,"  replied  Sanford  in  an 
equally  serious  voice.  "  We  laid  one  yester- 
day before  the  easterly  gale  caught  us.  You 
got  my  telegram,  did  n't  you  ?  " 

"  Of  course  !  but  I  was  anxious  for  all  that. 
Ever  since  I  had  that  talk  with  General  Barton 
I  've  felt  nervous  over  the  laying  of  those  stones. 
He  frightened  me  when  he  said  no  one  of  the 
Board  at  Washington  •  believed  you  could  do 
it.  It  would  be  so  awful  if  your  plan  should 
fail." 

"But  it's  not  going  to  fail,  Kate.  I  can  do 
it,  and  will."  There  was  a  decided  tone  in  his 
voice,  and  his  eyebrows  were  knitted  in  the  way 
she  loved  :  she  read  his  determination  in  every 
word  and  look.  "  All  I  wanted  was  a  proper 
boat,  and  I  've  got  that.  I  watched  her  day 
before  yesterday.  I  was  a  little  nervous  until  I 
saw  her  lower  the  first  stone.  Her  captain  is 
a  plucky  fellow,  —  Captain  Joe  likes  him  im- 
mensely. I  wish  you  could  have  been  there 
to  see  how  cool  he  was,- — not  a  bit  flustered 
when  he  saw  the  rocks  under  the  bow  of  his 
sloop." 

Kate  handed  him  her  empty  coffee-cup,  and 
going  to  the  edge  of  the  balcony  rested  her 
elbows   on  the  railing,  a  favorite   gesture   of 


A   LITTLE    DINNER   FOR   FIVE  93 

hers,  and  looked  down  on  the  treetops  of  the 
square. 

"  Caleb  West,  of  course,  went  down  with  the 
first  stone,  did  n't  he  ? "  she  asked  when  he 
joined  her  again.  She  knew  Caleb's  name  as 
she  did  those  of  all  the  men  in  Sanford's  em- 
ploy. There  was  no  detail  of  the  work  he  had 
not  explained  to  her. 

"And  was  the  sea-bottom  as  you  expected  to 
find  it  ? "  she  added. 

"Even  better,"  he  answered,  eager  to  discuss 
his  plans  with  her.  "Caleb  reports  that  as 
soon  as  he  gets  the  first  row  of  enrockment 
stones  set,  the  others  will  lie  up  like  bricks. 
And  it  's  all  coming  out  exactly  as  we  have 
planned  it,  too,  Kate." 

He  went  over  with  her  again,  as  he  had  done 
so  many  times  before,  all  of  his  plans  for  carry- 
ing on  the  work  and  the  difficulties  that  had 
threatened  him.  He  talked  of  his  hopes  and 
fears,  of  his  confidence  in  his  men,  his  admira- 
tion for  them,  and  his  love  for  the  work  itself. 
To  Sanford,  as  to  many  men,  there  were  times 
when  the  sympathy  and  understanding  of  a 
woman,  the  generous  faith  and  ready  belief  of 
one  who  listens  only  to  encourage,  became  a 
necessity.  To  have  talked  to  a  man  as  he  did 
to  Kate  would  not  only  have  bored  his  listener, 
but  might  have  aroused  a  suspicion  of  his  own 
professional  ability. 

"I  wonder  what  General  Barton  will  think 


94  CALEB  WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

when  he  finds  your  plan  succeeds  ?  He  says 
everywhere  that  you  cannot  do  it,"  Kate  con- 
tinued, with  a  certain  pride  in  her  voice,  after 
listening  to  some  further  details  of  Sanford's 
plans  for  placing  the  enrockment  blocks. 

"  I  don't  know  and  I  don't  care.  It 's  hard 
to  get  these  old-time  engineers  to  believe  in 
anything  new,  and  this  foundation  is  new.  But 
all  the  same,  I  'd  rather  pin  my  faith  to  Captain 
Joe  than  to  any  one  of  them.  What  we  are 
doing  at  the  Ledge,  Kate,  requires  mental  pluck 
and  brute  grit,  —  nothing  else.  Scientific  en- 
gineering won't  help  us  a  bit." 

Sanford  now  stood  erect,  with  face  aglow 
and  kindling  eyes,  his  back  to  the  balcony  rail. 
Every  inflection  of  his  voice  showed  a  keen 
interest  in  the  subject. 

"  And  yet,  after  all,  Kate,  I  realize  that  my 
work  is  mere  child's  play.  Just  see  what  other 
men  have  had  to  face.  At  Minot's  Ledge,  you 
know,  —  the  light  off  Boston,  —  they  had  to 
chisel  down  a  submerged  rock  into  steps,  to  get 
a  footing  for  the  tower.  But  three  or  four  men 
could  work  at  a  time,  and  then  at  dead  low 
water.  They  got  only  one  hundred  and  thirty 
hours'  work  the  first  year.  The  whole  Atlantic 
rolled  in  on  top  of  them,  and  there  was  no  shel- 
ter from  the  wind.  Until  they  got  the  bottom 
courses  of  their  tower  bolted  to  the  steps  they 
had  cut  in  the  rock,  they  had  no  footing  at  all, 
and  had  to  do  their  work  from  a  small  boat. 


A   LITTLE    DINNER   FOR   FIVE  95 

Our  artificial  island  helps  us  immensely ;  we 
have  something  to  stand  on.  And  it  was  even 
worse  at  Tillamook  Rock,  on  the  Pacific  coast. 
There  the  men  were  landed  on  a  precipitous 
crag  sticking  up  out  of  the  sea,  from  breeches 
buoys  slung  to  the  masthead  of  a  vessel.  For 
weeks  at  a  time  the  sea  was  so  rough  that  no 
one  could  reach  them.  They  were  given  up 
for  dead  once.  All  that  time  they  were  lying 
in  canvas  tents  lashed  down  to  the  sides  of  the 
crag  to  keep  them  from  being  blown  into  rags. 
All  they  had  to  eat  and  drink  for  days  was  raw 
salt  pork  and  the  rain-water  they  caught  from 
the  tent  covers.  And  yet  those  fellows  stuck 
to  it  day  and  night  until  they  had  blasted  off  a 
place  large  enough  to  put  a  shanty  on.  Every 
bit  of  the  material  for  that  lighthouse,  except- 
ing in  the  stillest  weather,  was  landed  from  the 
vessel  that  brought  it,  by  a  line  rigged  from 
the  masthead  to  the  top  of  the  crag ;  and  all 
this  time,  Kate,  she  was  thrashing  around  under 
steam,  keeping  as  close  to  the  edge  as  she  dared. 
Oh,  I  tell  you,  there  is  something  stunning  to 
me  in  such  a  battle  with  the  elements  ! " 

Kate's  cheeks  burned  as  Sanford  talked  on. 
She  was  no  longer  the  dainty  woman  over  the 
coffee-cups,  nor  the  woman  of  the  world  she 
had  been  a  few  moments  before,  eager  for  the 
pleasure  of  assembled  guests. 

Her  eyes  flashed  with  the  intensity  of  her 
feelings.      "  When  you   tell   me   such  things, 


96  CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

Henry,  I  am  all  on  fire,"  she  cried.  Then  she 
stopped  as  suddenly  as  if  some  unseen  hand 
had  been  laid  upon  her,  chilling  and  shriveling 
the  hot  burning  words.  "  The  world  is  full  of 
such  great  things  to  be  done,"  she  sighed,  "and 
I  lead  such  a  mean  little  life." 

Sanford  looked  at  her  in  undisguised  admira- 
tion. Then,  as  he  watched  her,  his  heart  smote 
him.  He  had  not  intended  to  wound  her  by 
his  enthusiasm  over  his  own  work,  nor  to 
awaken  in  her  any  sense  of  her  own  disap- 
pointments ;  he  had  only  tried  to  allay  her 
anxieties  over  his  affairs.  He  knew  by  the 
force  of  her  outburst  that  he  had  unconsciously 
stirred  those  deeper  emotions,  the  strength  of 
which  really  made  her  the  help  she  was  to  him. 
But  he  never  wanted  them  to  cause  her  suffer- 
ing. 

These  sudden  transitions  in  her  moods  were 
not  new  to  him.  She  was  an  April  day  in  her 
temperament,  and  would  often  laugh  the  sun- 
niest of  laughs  when  the  rain  of  her  tears  was 
falling.     These  were  really  moods  he  loved. 

It  was  the  present  frame  of  mind,  however, 
that  he  dreaded,  and  from  which  he  always 
tried  to  save  her.  It  did  not  often  show  itself. 
She  was  too  much  a  woman  of  the  world  to 
wear  her  heart  upon  her  sleeve,  and  too  good 
and  tactful  a  friend  to  burden  even  Sanford  with 
sorrows  he  could  not  lighten.  He  knew  what 
had  inspired  the  outburst,  for  he  had  known 


A   LITTLE    DINNER    FOR   FIVE  97 

her  for  years.  He  had  witnessed  the  long 
years  of  silent  suffering  which  she  had  borne 
so  sweetly,  —  even  cheerfully  at  times,  —  had 
seen  with  what  restraint  and  self-control  she 
had  cauterized  by  silence  and  patient  endur- 
ance every  fresh  wound,  and  had  watched  day 
by  day  the  slow  coming  of  the  scars  that  drew 
all  the  tighter  the  outside  covering  of  her 
heart. 

As  he  looked  at  her  out  of  the  corner  of  his 
eye,  —  she  leaning  over  the  balcony  at  his  side, 
—  he  could  see  that  the  tears  had  gathered 
under  her  lashes.  It  was  best  to  say  nothing 
when  she  felt  like  this.  He  recognized  that  to 
have  made  her  the  more  dissatisfied,  even  by 
that  sympathy  which  he  longed  to  give,  would 
have  hurt  in  her  that  which  he  loved  and  hon- 
ored most, — her  silence,  and  her  patient  loy- 
alty to  the  man  whose  name  she  bore.  "  She 's 
had  a  letter  from  Leroy,"  he  said  to  himself, 
"  and  he 's  done  some  other  disgraceful  thing,  I 
suppose  ; "  but  to  Kate  he  said  nothing. 

Gradually  he  led  the  talk  back  to  Keyport, 
this  time  telling  her  of  his  men  and  their  pecu- 
liarities and  humors ;  of  Caleb  and  his  young 
and  pretty  wife ;  and  of  Aunty  Bell's  watchful 
care  over  his  comfort  whenever  he  spent  the 
night  at  Captain  Joe's. 

Nothing  had  disturbed  the  other  guests. 
The  clink  of  the  major's  glass  and  the  inter- 
mittent gurgle  of  the  rapidly  ebbing  decanter 


98  CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

as  Sam  supplied  his  wants  could  still  be  heard 
from  the  softly  lighted  room.  On  the  fore- 
ordained divan,  half  hidden  by  a  curtain,  sat 
Jack  and  Helen,  their  shoulders  touching, 
studying  the  contents  of  a  portfolio,  —  some 
of  the  drawings  upside  down,  their  low  talk 
broken  now  and  then  by  a  happy,  irrelevant 
laugh. 

By  this  time  the  moon  had  risen  over  the 
treetops,  the  tall  buildings  far  across  the  quad- 
rangle breaking  the  sky-line.  Below  could  be 
seen  the  night  life  of  the  Park :  miniature  fig- 
ures strolling  about  under  the  trees,  flashing  in 
brilliant  light  or  swallowed  up  in  dense  shadow, 
as  they  passed  through  the  glare  of  the  many 
lamps  scattered  among  the  budding  foliage ;  a 
child  romping  with  a  dog,  or  a  belated  woman 
wheeling  a  baby  carriage  home.  The  night 
was  still,  the  air  soft  and  balmy ;  only  the  hum 
of  the  busy  street  a  block  away  could  be  heard 
where  they  stood. 

Suddenly  the  figure  of  a  boy  darted  across 
the  white  patch  of  pavement  below  them.  San- 
ford  leaned  far  over  the  railing,  a  strange,  un- 
reasoning dread  in  his  heart. 

"What  is  it,  Henry?"  asked  Mrs.  Leroy. 

"  Looks  like  a  messenger,"  Sanford  answered. 

Mrs.  Leroy  bent  over  the  railing,  and  watched 
the  boy  spring  up  the  low  steps  of  the  street 
door,  ring  the  bell  violently,  and  beat  an  im- 
patient tattoo  with  his  foot. 


A   LITTLE   DINNER   FOR  FIVE  99 

"  Whom  do  you  want  ? "  Sanford  called  gently. 

The  boy  looked  up,  and,  seeing  the  two  fig- 
ures on  the  balcony,  answered,  "Mr.  Henry 
Sanford.     Got  a  death  message." 

"  A  death  message,  did  he  say  ? "  gasped  Mrs. 
Leroy.     Her  voice  was  almost  a  whisper. 

"  Yes  ;  don't  move."  He  laid  a  hand  on  her 
arm  and  pointed  toward  the  group  inside.  A 
quick,  sharp  contraction  rose  in  his  throat. 
"  Sam,"  he  called  in  a  lowered  tone. 

"  Yaas  'r,  — comin'  direc'ly." 

"  Sam,  there  's  a  boy  at  the  outside  door  with 
a  telegram.  He  says  it  's  a  death  message. 
Get  it,  and  tell  the  boy  to  wait.  Go  quietly, 
now,  and  let  no  one  know.  You  will  find  me 
here." 

Mrs.  Leroy  sank  into  a  chair,  her  face  in  her 
hands.  Sanford  bent  over  her,  his  voice  still 
calm. 

"  Don't  give  way,  Kate ;  we  shall  know  in  a 
moment." 

She  grasped  his  hand  and  held  on.  "Oh, 
who  do  you  suppose  it  is,  Henry?  Will  Sam 
never  come  ? " 

While  he  was  comforting  her,  urging  her  to 
be  patient  and  not  to  let  Helen  hear,  Sam  re- 
entered the  room,  —  his  breath  gone  with  the 
dash  down  and  up  three  flights  of  stairs,  — 
walked  slowly  toward  the  balcony,  and  handed 
Sanford  a  yellow  envelope.  Its  contents  were 
as  follows :  — 


loo        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

Screamer's  boiler  exploded  7.40  to-night. 
Mate  killed;  Lacey  and  three  men  injured. 

Joseph  Bell. 

Sanford  looked  hurriedly  at  his  watch,  for- 
getting, in  the  shock,  to  hand  Mrs.  Leroy  the 
telegram. 

Mrs.  Leroy  caught  his  arm.  "  Tell  me  quick ! 
Who  is  it  ? " 

"  Forgive  me,  dear  Kate,  but  I  was  so  knocked 
out.  It  is  no  one  who  belongs  to  you.  It  is  the 
boiler  of  the  Screamer  that  has  burst.  Three 
men  are  hurt,"  reading  the  dispatch  again  me- 
chanically. "I  wonder  who  they  are?"  as  if 
he  expected  to  see  their  names  added  to  its 
brief  lines. 

For  a  moment  he  leaned  back  against  the 
balcony,  absorbed  in  deep  thought. 

"Twenty-three  minutes  left,"  he  said  to  him- 
self, consulting  his  watch  again.  "  I  must  go 
at  once ;  they  will  need  me." 

She  took  the  telegram  from  his  hand.  "  Oh, 
Henry,  I  am  so  sorry,  —  and  the  boat,  too,  you 
counted  upon.  Oh,  how  much  trouble  you  have 
had  over  this  work !  I  wish  you  had  never 
touched  it ! "  she  exclaimed,  with  the  momentary 
weakness  of  the  woman.  "  But  look !  read  it 
again."  Her  voice  rose  with  a  new  hope  in  it. 
"  Do  you  see  ?  Captain  Joe  signs  it,  —  he  's  not 
hurt ! " 

Sanford   patted  her  hand  abstractedly,  and 


A   LITTLE    DINNER   FOR   FIVE  ioi 

said,  "Dear  Kate,"  but  without  looking  at  her 
or  replying  further.  He  was  calculating  whe- 
ther it  would  be  possible  for  him  to  catch  the 
midnight  train  and  go  to  the  relief  of  the  men. 

"  Yes,  I  can  just  make  it,"  he  said,  half  aloud, 
to  himself.  Then  he  turned  to  Sam,  who  stood 
trembling  before  him,  looking  first  at  Mrs. 
Leroy  and  then  at  his  master,  and  said  in  an 
undertone,  "  Sam,  send  that  boy  for  a  cab,  and 
get  my  bag  ready.  I  will  change  these  clothes 
on  the  train.  Ask  Mr.  Hardy  to  step  here  ;  not 
a  word,  remember,  about  this  telegram." 

Jack  came  out  laughing,  and  was  about  to 
break  into  some  raillery,  when  he  saw  Mrs. 
Leroy' s  face. 

Sanford  touched  his  shoulder,  and  drew  him 
one  side  out  of  sight  of  the  inmates  of  the  room. 
"  Jack,  there  has  been  an  explosion  at  the  work, 
and  some  of  the  men  are  badly  hurt.  Say  no- 
thing to  Helen  until  she  gets  home.  I  leave 
immediately  for  Keyport.  Will  you  and  the 
major  please  look  after  Mrs.  Leroy  ?  " 

Sanford's  guests  followed  him  to  the  door  of 
the  corridor  :  Helen  radiant,  her  eyes  still  dan- 
cing ;  the  major  bland  and  court e/>us,  his  face 
without  a  ruffle ;  Jack  and  Mrs.  Leroy  appar- 
ently unmoved. 

"  Oh,  I  'm  so  sorry  you  must  go  ! "  exclaimed 
Helen,  holding  out  her  hands.  "  Mr.  Hardy 
says  you  do  nothing  but  live  on  the  train.    Thank 


102        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

you  ever  so  much,  dear  Mr.  Sanford ;  I  've  had 
such  a  lovely  time." 

"  My  dear  suh,"  said  the  major,  "this  is  posi- 
tively cruel !  This  Hennessy  "  — he  was  hold- 
ing his  glass  —  "  is  like  a  nosegay  ;  I  hoped  you 
would  enjoy  it  with  me.  Let  me  go  back  and 
pour  you  out  a  drop  before  you  go." 

"  Why  not  wait  until  to-morrow  ?  "  said  Jack 
in  perfunctory  tones,  the  sympathetic  pressure 
of  his  hand  in  Sanford's  belying  their  sincerity. 
"  This  night  traveling  will  kill  you,  old  man." 

Sanford  smiled  as  he  returned  the  pressure, 
and,  with  his  eyes  resting  on  Helen's  joyous 
face,  replied  meaningly,  "  Thank  you,  Jack  ;  it 's 
all  right,  I  see.  Not  a  word  until  she  gets 
home." 

Helen's  evening  had  not  been  spoiled,  at  all 
events. 

Once  outside  in  the  corridor,  —  Sam  down  one 
flight  of  steps  with  Sanford's  bag  and  coat,  — 
Mrs.  Leroy  half  closed  the  door,  and  laying  her 
hand  on  Sanford's  shoulder  said,  with  a  force 
and  an  earnestness  that  carried  the  keenest 
comfort  straight  to  his  heart,  "  I  've  seen  you 
in  worse  places  than  this,  Henry ;  you  always 
get  through%  and  you  will  now.  I  shall  not 
worry,  and  neither  will  you.  I  know  it  looks 
dark  to  you,  but  it  will  be  brighter  when  you 
reach  Keyport  and  get  all  the  facts.  I  will 
come  up  myself  on  the  early  morning  train,  and 
see  what  can  be  done  for  the  men." 


CHAPTER  VII 
betty's  first  patient 

The  wounded  men  lay  in  an  empty  warehouse 
which  in  the  whaling-days  had  been  used  for 
the  storing  of  oil,  and  was  now  owned  by  an 
old  whaler  living  back  of  the  village. 

Captain  Joe  had  not  waited  for  permission 
and  a  key  when  the  accident  occurred  and  the 
wounded  men  lay  about  him.  He  and  Captain 
Brandt  had  broken  the  locks  with  a  crowbar, 
improvised  an  operating-table  for  the  doctors 
out  of  old  barrels  and  planks,  and  dispatched 
messengers  up  and  down  the  shore  to  pull  mat- 
tresses from  the  nearest  beds. 

The  room  he  had  selected  for  the  temporary 
hospital  was  on  the  ground  floor  of  the  building. 
It  was  lighted  by  four  big  windows,  and  pro- 
tected by  solid  wooden  shutters,  now  slightly 
ajar.  Through  these  openings  timid  rays  of 
sunlight,  strangers  here  for  years,  stole  down 
slanting  ladders  of  floating  dust  to  the  grimy 
floor,  where  they  lay  trembling,  with  eyes  alert, 
ready  for  instant  retreat.  From  the  overhead 
beams  hung  long  strings  of  abandoned  cobwebs 
encrusted  with   black  soot,  which   the   bolder 


104        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

breeze  from  the  open  door  and  windows  swayed 
back  and  forth,  the  startled  soot  falling  upon 
the  white  cots  below.  In  one  corner  was  a 
heap  of  rusty  hoops  and  mouldy  staves,  —  un- 
buried  skeletons  of  old  whaling-days.  But  for 
the  accumulation  of  years  of  dust  and  mould 
the  room  was  well  adapted  to  its  present  use. 

Lacey's  cot  was  nearest  the  door.  His  head 
was  bound  with  bandages ;  only  one  eye  was 
free.  He  lay  on  his  side,  breathing  heavily. 
The  young  rigger  had  been  blown  against  the 
shrouds,  and  the  iron  foot-rest  had  laid  open  his 
cheek  and  forehead.  The  doctor  said  that  if 
he  recovered  he  would  carry  the  scar  the  rest 
of  his  life.  It  was  feared,  too,  that  he  had  been 
injured  internally. 

Next  to  his  cot  were  those  of  two  of  the 
sloop's  crew,  —  one  man  with  ribs  and  ankle 
broken,  the  other  with  dislocated  hip.  Lonny 
Bowles,  the  quarryman,  came  next.  He  was 
sitting  up  in  bed,  his  arm  in  a  sling,  —  Captain 
Brandt  was  beside  him  ;  he  had  escaped  with  a 
gash  in  his  arm. 

Captain  Joe  was  without  coat  or  waistcoat. 
His  sleeves  were  rolled  up  above  the  elbows, 
his  big  brawny  arms  black  with  dirt.  He  had 
been  up  all  night ;  now  bending  over  one  of 
the  crew,  lifting  him  in  his  arms  as  if  he  had 
been  a  baby,  to  ease  the  pain  of  his  position, 
now  helping  Aunty  Bell  with  the  beds. 

Betty  sat  beside  Lacey,  fanning  him.     Her 


BETTY'S   FIRST   PATIENT  105 

eyes  were  red  and  heavy,  her  pretty  curls 
matted  about  her  head.  She  and  Aunty  Bell 
had  not  had  their  clothes  off.  Their  faces  were 
smudged  with  the  soot  and  grime  that  kept  fall- 
ing from  the  ceiling.  Aunty  Bell  had  taken 
charge  of  the  improvised  stove,  heating  the 
water,  and  Betty  had  assisted  the  doctors  — 
there  were  two  —  with  the  bandages  and  lint. 

"  It  ain't  as  bad  as  I  thought  when  I  wired 
ye,"  said  Captain  Joe  to  Sanford,  stopping  him 
as  he  edged  a  way  through  the  group  of  men 
outside.  "  It 's  tumble  hard  on  th'  poor  mate, 
jes'  been  married.  Never  died  till  he  reached 
th'  dock.  There  warn't  a  square  inch  o'  flesh 
onto  him,  the  doctor  said,  that  warn't  scalded 
clean  off.  Poor  feller,"  and  his  voice  broke, 
"he  ain't  been  married  but  three  months ;  she 's 
a-comin'  down  on  the  express.  Telling  her's 
the  wust  thing  we  've  got  to  do  to-day.  Cap'n 
Bob  's  goin'  ter  meet  'er.  The  other  boys  is 
tore  up  some,"  he  went  on,  "  but  we  '11  have  'em 
crawlin'  'round  in  a  week  or  so.  Lacey  's  got 
th'  worst  crack.  Doctor  sez  he  kin  save  his 
eye  if  he  pulls  through,  but  ye  kin  lay  yer  three 
fingers  in  th'  hole  in  his  face.  He  won't  be  as 
purty  as  he  was,"  with  an  effort  at  a  smile,  "  but 
maybe  that  '11  do  him  good." 

Sanford  crossed  at  once  to  Lacey's  bed,  and 
laid  his  hand  tenderly  on  that  of  the  sufferer. 
The  young  fellow  opened  his  well  eye,  and  a 
smile  played  for  an  instant  about  his  mouth, 


106        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

the  white  teeth  gleaming.  Then  it  faded  with 
the  pain.  Betty  bent  over  him  still  closer  and 
adjusted  the  covering  about  his  chest. 

"Has  he  suffered  much  during  the  night, 
Betty  ? "  asked  Sanford. 

"He  didn't  know  a  thing  at  first,  sir.  He 
did  n't  come  to  himself  till  the  doctor  got 
through.  He's  been  easier  since  daylight." 
Then,  with  her  head  turned  toward  Sanford, 
and  with  a  significant  gesture,  pointing  to  her 
own  forehead  and  cheek,  she  noiselessly  de- 
scribed the  terrible  wounds,  burying  her  face 
in  her  hands  as  the  awful  memory  rose  before 
her.  "  Oh,  Mr.  Sanford,  I  never  dreamed  any- 
body could  suffer  so." 

"  Where  does  he  suffer  most  ?  "  asked  San- 
ford in  a  whisper. 

Lacey  opened  his  eye.  "In  my  back,  Mr. 
Sanford." 

Betty  laid  her  fingers  on  his  hand.  "  Don't 
talk,  Billy;  doctor  said  ye  weren't  to  talk." 

The  eye  shut  again  wearily,  and  the  brown, 
rough,  scarred  hand  with  the  blue  tattoo  marks 
under  the  skin  closed  over  the  little  fingers  and 
held  on. 

Betty  sat  fanning  him  gently,  looking  down 
upon  his  bruised  face.  As  each  successive « 
pain  racked  his  helpless  body  she  would  hold 
her  breath  until  it  passed,  tightening  her  fin- 
gers that  he  might-  steady  himself  the  better : 
all   her   heart  went  out  to   him  in   his   pain. 


BETTY'S    FIRST   PATIENT  107 

Aunty  Bell  watched  her  for  a  moment ;  then 
going  to  her  side,  she  drew  her  hand  with  a 
caressing  stroke  under  the  girl's  chin,  a  favorite 
love-touch  of  hers,  and  said  :  — 

"  Cap'n  says  we  got  to  go  home,  child,  both 
of  us.  You  're  tuckered  out,  an'  I  got  some 
chores  to  do.  We  can't  do  no  more  good  here. 
You  come  'long  an'  get  washed  up  'fore  Caleb 
comes.  You  don't  want  to  let  him  see  ye 
bunged  up  like  this,  an'  all  smudged  and  dirty 
with  th'  soot  a-droppin'  down.  He'll  be  here 
in  half  an  hour.  They  've  sent  the  tug  to  the 
Ledge  for  him  an'  the  men.  Come,  Betty, 
that 's  a  good  child." 

"  I  ain't  a-goin'  a  step,  Aunty  Bell.  I  ain't 
sleepy  a  bit.  There  ain't  nobody  to  change 
these  cloths  but  me.  Caleb  knows  how  to  get 
along,"  she  answered,  her  eyes  watching  the 
quick,  labored  breathing  of  the  injured  man. 

The  mention  of  Caleb's  name  brought  her 
back  to  herself.  Since  the  moment  when  she 
had  left  her  cottage,  the  night  before,  and  in 
all  her  varying  moods  since,  she  had  not  once 
thought  of  her  husband.  At  the  sound  of  the 
explosion  she  had  run  out  of  her  house  bare- 
headed, and  had  kept  on  down  the  road,  over- 
taking Mrs.  Bell  and  the  neighbors.  She  had 
not  stopped  even  to  lock  her  door.  She  only 
knew  that  the  men  were  hurt,  and  that  she  had 
seen  Captain  Joe  and  the  others  working  on 
the  sloop's  deck  but  an  hour  before.     She  still 


108        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

saw  Lacey's  ghastly  face  as  the  lantern's  light 
fell  upon  it,  and  his  limp  body  carried  on  the 
barrow  plank  and  laid  outside  the  warehouse 
door,  and  could  still  hear  the  crash  of  Captain 
Joe's  iron  bar  when  he  forced  off  the  lock. 
She  would  not  leave  the  sufferer,  now  that  he 
had  crawled  back  to  life  and  needed  her,  —  not, 
at  least,  until  he  was  out  of  all  danger.  When 
Captain  Joe  passed  a  few  minutes  later  with  a 
cup  of  coffee  for  one  of  the  sufferers,  she 
was  still  by  Lacey's  side,  fanning  gently.  He 
seemed  to  be  asleep. 

"  Now,  little  gal,"  the  captain  called  out, 
"  you  git  along  home.  You  done  fust-rate,  an' 
the  men  won't  forgit  ye  for  it.  Caleb  '11  be 
mighty  proud  when  I  tell  'im  how  you  stood  by 
las'  night  when  they  all  piled  in  on  top  o'  me. 
You  run  'long  now  after  Aunty  Bell,  an'  git 
some  sleep.  I  'm  goin'  'board  the  sloop  to  see 
how  badly  she 's  hurted." 

Betty  only  shook  her  head.  Then  she  rested 
her  face  against  Captain  Joe's  strong  arm  and 
said,  "  No,  please  don't,  Captain  Joe.  I  can't 
go  now." 

She  was  still  there,  the  fan  moving  noise- 
lessly, when  Mrs.  Leroy,  her  maid,  and  Major 
Slocomb  entered  the  hospital.  The  major  had 
escorted  Mrs.  Leroy  from  New  York,  greatly 
to  Sanford's  surprise,  and  greatly  to  Mrs. 
Leroy' s  visible  annoyance.  All  her  protests 
the  night  before  had  only  confirmed  him  in  his 


BETTY'S    FIRST   PATIENT  109 

determination  to  meet  her  at  the  train  in  the 
morning. 

"  Did  you  suppose,  my  dear  suh,"  he  said, 
in  answer  to  Sanford's  astonished  look,  as  he 
handed  that  dainty  woman  from  the  train  on 
its  arrival  at  Keyport,  "that  I  would  permit  a 
lady  to  come  off  alone  into  a  God -forsaken 
country  like  this,  that  raises  nothin'  but  rocks 
and  scrub  pines  ? " 

Mrs.  Leroy  seemed  stunned  when  she  saw 
the  four  cots  upon  which  the  men  lay.  She 
advanced  a  step  toward  Lacey's  bed,  and  then, 
as  she  caught  sight  of  the  bandages  and  the 
ghastly  face  upon  the  blood-stained  pillow,  she 
stopped  short  and  grasped  Sanford's  arm,  and 
said  in  a  tremulous  whisper,  "  Oh,  Henry,  is 
that  his  poor  wife  sitting  by  him  ? " 

"  No ;  that 's  the  wife  of  Caleb  West,  the 
master  diver.  That 's  Lacey  lying  there.  He 
looks  to  be  worse  hurt  than  he  is,  Kate,"  anx- 
ious to  make  the  case  as  light  as  possible. 

Her  eyes  wandered  over  the  room,  up  at 
the  cobwebbed  ceiling  and  down  to  the  black- 
ened floor. 

"  What  an  awfully  dirty  place !  Are  you 
going  to  keep  them  here  ? " 

"Yes,  until  they  can  get  to  work  again. 
The  building  is  perfectly  dry  and  healthy, 
with  plenty  of  ventilation.  We  will  have  it 
cleaned  up,  — it  needs  that." 

Betty  merely  glanced  at  the  group  as  she 


no        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

sat  fanning  the  sleeping  man.  Their  entrance 
had  made  but  little  impression  upon  her ;  she 
was  too  tired  to  move,  and  too  much  absorbed 
in  her  charge  to  offer  the  fine  lady  a  chair. 

Something  in  the  girl's  face  touched  the 
visitor. 

"  Have  you  been  here  all  the  morning  ? " 
she  asked,  crossing  to  Betty's  side  of  the  cot, 
and  laying  a  hand  on  her  shoulder.  With  the 
passing  of  the  first  shock  the  natural  tender- 
ness of  her  heart  had  overcome  her.  She 
wanted  to  help. 

Betty  raised  her  eyes,  the  rims  red  with  her 
long  vigil,  and  the  whites  all  the  whiter  because 
of  the  fine  black  dust  that  had  sifted  down  and 
discolored  her  pale  cheeks. 

"  I  've  been  here  all  night,  ma'am,"  she  said 
sweetly  and  gently,  drawn  instinctively  by  Mrs. 
Leroy's  sympathetic  face. 

"How  tired  you  must  be!  Can  I  do  any- 
thing to  help  you  ?  Let  me  fan  him  while  you 
rest  a  little." 

Betty  shook  her  head. 

The  major  crossed  over  to  the  cot  occupied 
by  Lonny  Bowles,  the  big  Noank  quarryman, 
whose  arm  was  in  a  sling,  and  sat  down  on  the 
edge  of  the  bed.  No  one  had  yet  thought  of 
bringing  in  chairs,  except  for  those  nursing  the 
wounded.  As  the  Pocomokian  looked  into 
Bowles's  bronzed,  ruddy  face,  at  the  wrinkles 
about  his  neck,  as  seamy  as  those  of  a  young 


BETTY'S    FIRST   PATIENT  in 

bull,  the  great  broad  hairy  chest,  and  the  arms 
and  hands  big  and  strong,  he  was  filled  with 
astonishment.  Everything  about  the  quarry- 
man  seemed  to  be  the  exact  opposite  of  what 
he  himself  possessed.  This  almost  racial  dis- 
tinction was  made  clearer  when,  in  the  kind- 
ness of  his  heart,  he  tried  to  comfort  the  unfor- 
tunate man. 

"  I  'm  ve'y  sorry,"  the  major  began,  with 
an  embarrassment  entirely  new  to  him,  and 
which  he  could  not  account  for  in  himself,  "at 
finding  you  injured  in  this  way,  suh.  Has  the 
night  been  a  ve'y  painful  one  ?  You  seem 
better  off  than  the  others.  How  did  you  feel 
at  the  time  ?  " 

Bowles  looked  him  all  over  with  a  curious 
expression  of  countenance.  He  was  trying  to 
decide  in  his  mind,  from  the  major's  white  tie, 
whether  he  was  a  minister,  whose  next  remark 
would  be  a  request  to  kneel  down  and  pray 
with  him,  or  whether  he  were  a  quack  doctor 
who  had  come  to  do  a  little  business  on  his 
own  account.  The  evident  sincerity  and  ten- 
derness of  the  speaker  disconcerted  him  for 
the  moment.  He  hesitated  for  a  while,  and 
finally  formulated  a  reply  in  his  mind  that 
would  cover  the  case  if  his  first  surmise  as  to 
his  being  a  minister  were  correct,  and  might  at 
the  same  time  result  in  his  being  let  alone  if 
the  second  proved  to  be  the  case. 

"  Wall,  it  was  so  damn  sudden.     Fust  thing 


U2        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

I  knowed  I  wuz  in  the  water  with  th'  wind 
knocked  out'er  me,  an'  the  next  wuz  when  I 
come  to  an'  they  hed  me  in  here  an'  the  doctor 
a-fixin'  me  up.  I  'm  all  right,  ye  see,  only  I  'm 
drier 'n  a  lime-kiln.  Say,  cap," — he  looked 
over  toward  the  water-bucket,  and  called  to  one 
of  the  men  standing  near  the  door,  —  "  fetch 
me  a  dipper." 

To  call  a  landsman  "  cap  "  around  Keyport 
is  to  dignify  him  with  a  title  which  he  probably 
does  not  possess,  but  which  you  think  would 
please  him  if  he  did. 

"Let  me  get  you  a  drink,"  said  the  major, 
rising  from  the  bed  with  a  quick  spring  indica- 
tive of  his  hearty  desire  to  serve  him.  He 
dipped  the  floating  tin  in  the  bucket  and 
brought  it  to  the  thirsty  man. 

Bowles  drained  the  contents  to  its  last  drop. 
"He  ain't  no  preach  an'  he  ain't  no  sawbones," 
he  said  to  himself,  as  he  returned  the  empty 
tin  to  Slocomb  with  a  "  Thank  ye,  —  much 
obleeged." 

Somehow  the  reply  satisfied  the  major  far 
more  than  the  most  elaborately  prepared  speech 
of  thanks  which  he  remembered  ever  to  have 
received. 

Then  the  two  men  continued  to  talk  freely 
with  each  other,  the  one  act  of  kindness  hav- 
ing broken  down  the  barrier  between  them. 
The  Pocomokian,  completely  forgetting  himself, 
told  of   his  home  on  the  Chesapeake,  of  his 


BETTY'S    FIRST    PATIENT  113 

acquaintance  with  Sanford,  of  his  coming  up 
to  look  after  Mrs.  Leroy.  The  major's  tone 
of  voice  was  as  natural  and  commonplace  as 
if  he  had  been  conversing  with  himself  alone. 
"  Could  n't  leave  a  woman  without  protection, 
you  know,"  to  which  code  of  etiquette  Bowles 
bobbed  his  head  in  reply;  the  genuine,  unaf- 
fected sympathy  of  the  rough  man  before  him 
seemed  to  have  knocked  every  fictitious  prop 
from  under  his  own  personality. 

The  quarryman,  in  turn,  talked  about  the 
Ledge,  and  what  a  rotten  season  it  had  been, 
—  nothing  but  southeasters  since  work  opened  ; 
last  week  the  men  only  got  three  days'  work. 
It  was  terrible  rough  on  the  boss  (the  boss  was 
Sanford),  paying  out  wages  to  the  men  and  get- 
ting so  little  back ;  but  it  was  n't  the  men's 
fault,  —  they  were  standing  by  day  and  night, 
catching  the  lulls  when  they  came ;  they  'd 
make  it  up  before  the  season  was  over ;  he  and 
Caleb  West  had  been  up  all  the  night  before 
getting  ready  for  the  big  derricks  that  Captain 
Joe  was  going  to  set  up  as  soon  as  they  were 
ready ;  did  n't  know  what  they  were  going  to 
do  now  with  that  Screamer  all  tore  up  :  a  rec- 
ord of  danger,  unselfishness,  loyalty,  pluck,  hard 
work,  and  a  sense  of  duty  that  was  a  complete 
revelation  to  Slocomb,  whose  whofe  life  had 
been  one  prolonged  loaf,  and  whose  ideas  of 
the  higher  type  of  man  had  heretofore  been 
somehow  inseparably  interwoven  with  a  veranda, 


114        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

a  splint-bottomed  chair,  a  palm-leaf  fan,  and 
somebody  within  call  to  administer  to  his  per- 
sonal wants. 

When  Captain  Joe  returned  from  an  inspec- 
tion of  the  sloop's  injuries, — strange  to  say, 
they  were  very  slight  compared  to  the  force  of 
the  explosion,  —  Mrs.  Leroy  was  still  talking 
to  Sanford,  suggesting  comforts  for  the  men, 
and  planning  for  mosquito  nettings  to  be  placed 
over  their  cots.  The  maid,  a  severe-looking 
woman  in  black,  who  had  never  relaxed  her 
grasp  of  the  dressing-case,  had  taken  a  seat  on 
an  empty  nail-keg  which  somebody  had  brought 
in,  and  which  she  had  carefully  dusted  with  her 
handkerchief  before  occupying.  It  was  evident 
from  her  manner  that  there  was  absolutely 
nothing  she  could  do  for  anybody. 

Captain  Joe  looked  at  the  party  for  a  moment, 
noted  Mrs.  Leroy' s  traveling  costume  of  blue 
foulard  and  dainty  bonnet,  ran  his  eye  over  the 
maid,  glanced  at  the  major,  in  an  alpaca  coat, 
with  white  waistcoat  and  necktie  and  gray 
slouch  hat,  and  said  in  his  calm,  forceful,  yet 
gentle  way  to  Mrs.  Leroy,  "  It  was  very  nice 
of  ye  to  come  an'  bring  yer  friend,"  pointing  to 
the  maid,  "an'  any  o'  Mr.  Sanford's  folks  is 
allers  welcome  at  any  time ;  but  we  be  a  rough 
lot,  an'  the  men 's  rough,  and  ye  kin  see  for  yer- 
self  we  ain't  fixed  up  fur  company.  They  '11  be 
all  right  in  a  week  or  so.  Ef  ye  don't  mind  now, 
ma'am,  I  'm  goin'  to  shet  them  shetters  to  keep 


BETTY'S    FIRST    PATIENT  115 

the  sun  out  o'  their  eyes  an'  git  th'  men  quiet, 
—  some  on  'em  ain't  slep'  any  too  much.  The 
tug  '11  be  here  to  take  ye  all  over  to  Medford 
whenever  ye  're  ready ;  she 's  been  to  th'  Ledge 
fur  th'  men.  Mr.  Sanford  said  ye  'd  be  goin' 
over  soon."  He  glanced  about  the  room  as  he 
spoke,  until  his  eye  rested  on  Sanford.  "  Ye  're 
goin'  'long,  did  n't  I  hear  ye  say,  sir?"  Then 
addressing  Slocomb,  whose  title  he  tried  to 
remember,  "  We  've  done  th'  best  we  could, 
colonel.  It  ain't  like  what  ye  're  accustomed 
to,  mebbe, — kind'er  ragged  place,  —  but  we 
got  th'  men  handy  here  where  we  kin  take  care 
on  'em,  an*  still  look  after  th'  work,  an'  we  ain't 
got  no  time  to  lose  this  season ;  it 's  been  back- 
'ard,  blowin'  a  gale  half  the  time.  There  's  the 
tug  whistle  now,  ma'am,"  turning  again  to  Mrs. 
Leroy. 

Mrs.  Leroy  did  not  answer.  She  felt  the 
justice  of  the  captain's  evident  want  of  confi- 
dence in  her,  and  realized  at  once  that  all  of 
her  best  impulses  could  not  save  her  from  being 
an  intrusion  at  this  time.  None  of  her  former 
experience  had  equipped  her  for  a  situation  of 
such  gravity  as  this.  With  a  curious  feeling  of 
half  contempt  for  herself,  she  thought,  as  she 
looked  around  upon  the  great  strong  men  suf- 
fering there  silently,  how  little  she  had  known 
of  what  physical  pain  must  be.  She  had  once 
read  to  a  young  blind  girl  in  a  hospital,  during 
a  winter,  and  she  had  sent  delicacies  for  years 


n6        CALEB   WEST,    MASTER   DIVER 

to  a  poor  man  with  some  affliction  of  the  spine. 
She  remembered  that  she  had  been  quite  satis- 
fied with  herself  and  her  work  at  the  time  ;  and 
so  had  the  pretty  nurses  in  their  caps,  and  the 
young  doctors  whom  she  met,  the  head  surgeon 
even  escorting  her  to  her  carriage.  But  what 
had  she  done  to  prepare  herself  for  a  situation 
like  this  ?  Here  was  the  reality  of  suffering, 
and  yet  with  all  her  sympathy  she  felt  within 
herself  a  fierce  repugnance  to  it.  After  all  her 
aspirations,  how  weak  she  was,  and  how  heartily 
she  despised  herself ! 

As  she  turned  to  leave  the  building,  holding 
her  skirts  in  her  hand  to  avoid  the  dirt,  the 
light  of  the  open  door  was  shut  out,  and  eight 
or  ten  great  strong  fellows  in  rough  jackets  and 
boots,  headed  by  Caleb  West,  just  landed  by  a 
tug  from  the  Ledge,  walked  hurriedly  into  the 
room,  with  an  air  as  if  they  belonged  there  and 
knew  they  had  work  to  do,  and  at  once. 

Caleb  strode  straight  to  Lacey's  bed.  His 
cap  was  off,  his  hands  were  clasped  behind  his 
back.  He  felt  his  eyes  filling,  and  a  great  lump 
rose  in  his  throat  as  he  stood  looking  down  at 
him.     He  never  could  see  suffering  unmoved. 

The  young  rigger  opened  his  well  eye,  and 
the  pale  cheek  flushed  scarlet  as  he  saw  Caleb's 
face  bending  over  him. 

"  Where  did  it  hit  ye,  sonny  ?  "  asked  Caleb, 
bending  closer,  and  slipping  one  hand  into 
Betty's  as  he  spoke. 


BETTY'S    FIRST   PATIENT  117 

Betty  pointed  to  her  own  cheek.  Lacey,  she 
said,  was  too  weak  to  answer  for  himself. 

"I  've  been  afeard  o'  that  b'iler,"  Caleb  said, 
turning  to  one  of  the  men,  "  ever  sence  I  see  it 
work." 

Betty  shook  her  head  warningly,  holding  a 
finger  to  her  lips.  Caleb  and  the  men  stopped 
talking. 

"  You  been  here  all  night,  Betty  ?  "  whis- 
pered Caleb,  putting  his  mouth  close  to  her 
ear,  and  one  big  hand  on  her  rounded  shoulder. 

Betty  nodded  her  head. 

"  Ye  ought'er  be  mighty  proud  o'  her,  Caleb," 
said  Captain  Joe,  joining  the  group,  and  speak- 
ing in  a  lowered  tone.  "Ain't  many  older 
women  'longshore  would' er  done  any  better.  I 
tried  ter  git  'er  to  go  home  with  Aunty  Bell  two 
hours  ago,  but  she  sez  she  won't." 

Caleb's  face  glowed  and  his  heart  gave  a 
quick  bound  as  he  listened  to  Captain  Joe's 
praise  of  the  girl  wife  that  was  all  his  own. 
His  rough  hand  pressed  Betty's  shoulder  the 
closer.  He  had  always  known  that  the  first 
great  sorrow  or  anxiety  that  came  into  her  life 
would  develop  all  her  nature  and  make  a  woman 
of  her.  Now  the  men  about  him  would  see  the 
strong  womanly  qualities  which  had  attracted 
him. 

"  Lemme  take  hold  now,  Betty,"  said  Caleb, 
still  whispering,  and  stooping  over  her  again. 
"Ye 're  nigh  beat  out,  little  woman." 


u8        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

He  slipped  his  arm  around  her  slender  waist 
as  if  to  lift  her  from  the  chair.  Betty  caught 
his  fingers  and  loosened  his  hand  from  its  hold. 

"  I  'm  all  right,  Caleb.  You  go  home.  I  '11 
be  'long  in  a  little  while  to  get  supper." 

Caleb  looked  at  her  curiously.  Her  tone  of 
voice  was  new  to  him.  She  had  never  loosened 
his  arm  before,  not  when  she  was  tired  and  sick. 
She  had  always  crept  into  his  lap,  and  put  her 
pretty  white  arms  around  his  neck,  and  tucked 
her  head  down  on  his  big  beard. 

"What's  the  matter,  little  one?"  he  asked 
anxiously.     "  Maybe  it 's  hungry  ye  be  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  guess  I  'm  hungry,  Caleb,"  said  Betty 
wearily. 

"  I  '11  go  out,  Betty,  an'  git  ye  some  soup 
or  somethin'.  I  '11  be  back  right  away,  little 
woman."  He  tiptoed  past  the  cot,  putting  on 
his  cap  as  he  went. 

Two  of  the  men  followed  him  with  their  eyes 
and  smiled.  One  looked  significantly  at  Lacey 
and  then  toward  the  retreating  figure,  and  shook 
his  head  in  a  knowing  way. 

Betty  had  not  answered  Caleb.  She  did  not 
even  turn  her  head  to  follow  his  movements. 
She  saw  only  the  bruised,  pale  face  before  her 
as  she  listened  to  the  heavy  breathing  of  the 
sufferer.  She  would  have  dropped  from  her 
chair  with  fatigue  and  exhaustion  but  for  some 
new  spirit  within  her  which  seemed  to  hold  her 
up,  and  to  keep  the  fan  still  in  her  hand. 


BETTY'S    FIRST    PATIENT  119 

When  Sanford,  after  escorting  Mrs.  Leroy  to 
her  home,  returned  to  the  improvised  hospital, 
he  found  the  lanterns  lighted,  and  learned  that 
the  doctor  had  dressed  the  men's  wounds,  and 
had  reported  everybody  on  the  mend,  especially 
Lacey ;  at  Betty's  urgent  request  he  had  made 
a  careful  examination  of  the  young  rigger's 
wounds,  and  had  pronounced  him  positively  out 
of  danger.  Only  then  had  she  left  her  post 
and  gone  to  her  own  cottage  with  Caleb. 

Captain  Joe  had  followed  Aunty  Bell  home 
for  a  few  hours'  rest,  and  all  the  watchers  had 
been  changed. 

There  was  but  one  exception.  Beside  the 
cot  upon  which  lay  the  sailor  with  the  dislo- 
cated hip  sat  the  major,  with  hat  and  coat  off, 
his  shirt-cuffs  rolled  up.  He  was  feeding  the 
sufferer  from  a  bowl  of  soup  which  he  held  in 
his  hand.  He  seemed  to  enjoy  every  phase  of 
his  new  experience.  It  might  have  been  that 
his  sympathies  were  more  than  usually  aroused, 
or  it  might  have  been  that  the  spirit  of  vaga- 
bondage within  him,  which  fitted  him  for  every 
condition  in  life,  making  him  equally  at  home 
among  rich  and  poor,  and  equally  agreeable  to 
both,  had  speedily  brought  him  into  harmony 
with  the  men  about  him.  Certainly  no  newly 
appointed  young  surgeon  in  a  charity  hospital 
could  have  been  more  entirely  absorbed  in  the 
proper  running  of  the  establishment  than  was 
Slocomb  in  the  care  of  these  rough  men.     He 


120        CALEB   WEST,    MASTER   DIVER 

had  refused  point-blank  Mrs.  Leroy's  pressing 
invitation  to  spend  the  night  at  her  house,  his 
refusal  causing  much  astonishment  to  those 
who  misunderstood  his  reasons. 

"  I  'm  going  to  take  charge  here  to-night, 
major,"  said  Sanford,  walking  toward  him,  real- 
izing for  the  first  time  that  he  had  neglected 
his  friend  all  day,  and  with  a  sudden  anxiety  as 
to  where  he  should  send  him  for  the  night. 
"  Will  you  go  to  the  hotel  and  get  a  room,  or 
will  you  go  to  Captain  Joe's  cottage  ?  You  can 
have  my  bed.  Mrs.  Bell  will  make  you  very 
comfortable  for  the  night." 

The  major  turned  to  Sanford  with  an  expres- 
sion of  profound  sympathy  in  his  face,  hesitated 
for  a  moment,  and  said  firmly,  with  a  slight 
suggestion  of  wounded  dignity  in  his  manner, 
and  in  a  voice  which  was  sincerity  itself,  "  By 
gravy,  suh,  you  would  n't  talk  about  going  to 
bed  if  you'd  been  yere  'most  all  day,  as  I 
have,  and  seen  what  these  po'  men  suffer. 
My  place  is  yere,  suh,  an'  yere  I  'm  going  to 
stay." 

Sanford  had  to  look  twice  before  he  could 
trust  his  own  eyes  and  ears.  What  was  the 
matter  with  the  Pocomokian  ? 

"But,  major,"  he  continued  in  protest,  deter- 
mining finally  in  his  mind  that  some  quixotic 
whim  had  taken  possession  of  him,  "there  isn't 
a  place  for  you  to  lie  down.  You  had  better  get 
a  good  night's  rest,  and  come  back  in  the  morn- 


BETTY'S    FIRST   PATIENT 


121 


ing.     There 's  nothing  you  can  do  here.     I  'm 
going  to  sit  up  with  the  men  myself  to-night." 

The  major  did  not  even  wait  for  Sanford's 
reply.  He  placed  the  hot  soup  carefully  on  the 
floor,  slipped  one  hand  under  the  wounded  man's 
head  that  he  might  swallow  more  easily,  and 
then  raised  another  spoonful  to  the  sufferer's 
lips. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THE  "HEAVE  HO "  OF  LONNY  BOWLES 

The  accident  to  the  Screamer  had  delayed 
work  at  the  Ledge  but  a  few  days.  Other 
men  had  taken  the  place  of  those  injured,  and 
renewed  efforts  had  been  made  by  Sanford  and 
Captain  Joe  to  complete  to  low-water  mark  the 
huge  concrete  disk,  forming  a  bedstone  sixty 
feet  in  diameter  and  twelve  feet  thick,  on  which 
the  superstructure  was  to  rest.  This  had  been 
accomplished  after  three  weeks  of  work,  and 
the  men  stood  in  readiness  to  begin  the  ma- 
sonry of  the  superstructure  itself  so  soon  as  the 
four  great  derricks  required  in  lifting  and  set- 
ting the  cut  stone  of  the  masonry  could  be 
erected.  They  were  only  waiting  for  Mr. 
Carleton's  acceptance  of  the  concrete  disk,  the 
first  section  of  the  contract.  The  superin- 
tendent's certificate  of  approval  was  important, 
one  rule  of  the  Department  being  that  no  new 
section  of  the  work  should  begin  until  the  pre- 
ceding section  was  officially  approved. 

Carleton,  however,  declined  to  give  it.  His 
ostensible  reason  was  that  the  engineer-in-chief 
was   expected   daily   at   Keyport,   and   should 


"HEAVE  HO"   OF  LONNY  BOWLES     123 

therefore  pass  upon  the  work  himself.  His  real 
reason  was  a  desire  to  settle  a  score  with  Cap- 
tain Joe  by  impeding  the  progress  of  the  work. 
This  animosity  to  Captain  Joe  had  been 
aroused  by  an  article  very  flattering  to  the  su- 
perintendent, published  in  the  "  Medford  Jour- 
nal," in  which  great  credit  had  been  given  to 
Carleton  for  his  "  heroism  and  his  prompt  effi- 
ciency in  providing  a  hospital  for  the  wounded 
men."  The  day  after  its  publication,  the 
"  Noank  Times,"  a  political  rival,  sent  to  make 
an  investigation  of  its  own,  in  the  course  of 
which  the  reporter  encountered  Captain  Joe. 
The  captain  had  not  seen  the  Medford  article 
until  it  was  shown  him  by  the  reporter.  He 
thereupon  gave  the  exact  facts  in  regard  to 
the  accident  and  the  subsequent  care  of  the 
wounded  men,  generously  exonerating  the  gov- 
ernment superintendent  from  all  responsibility 
for  the  notice ;  adding  with  decided  emphasis 
that  "  Mr.  Carleton  could  n't  'a'  said  no  such 
thing  'bout  havin'  provided  the  hospital  himself, 
'cause  he  was  over  to  Medford  to  a  circus  the 
night  the  accident  happened,  and  did  n't  git 
home  till  daylight  next  mornin',  when  every- 
thing was  over  an'  the  men  was  in  their  beds." 
The  result  of  this  interview  was  a  double-leaded 
column  in  the  next  issue  of  the  "  Noank  Times," 
which  not  only  ridiculed  its  rival  for  the  manu- 
factured news,  but  read  a  lesson  on  veracity  to 
Carleton  himself. 


124        CALEB   WEST,    MASTER   DIVER 

The  denial  made  by  the  "  Times  "  was  the 
thrust  that  had  rankled  deepest ;  for  Carleton, 
unfortunately  for  himself,  had  inclosed  the 
eulogistic  article  from  the  "  Medford  Journal " 
in  his  official  report  of  the  accident  to  the  De- 
partment, and  had  become  the  proud  possessor 
of  a  letter  from  the  engineer-in-chief  commend- 
ing his  "promptness  and  efficiency." 

So  far  the  captain  had  kept  his  temper,  ig- 
noring both  the  obstacles  Carleton  had  thrown 
in  his  way  and  the  ill-natured  speeches  the  su- 
perintendent was  constantly  making.  No  open 
rupture  had  taken  place.  Those,  however,  who 
knew  the  captain's  explosive  temperament  con- 
fidently expected  that  he  would  break  out  upon 
the  superintendent,  in  answer  to  some  brutal 
thrust,  in  a  dialect  so  impregnated  with  ful- 
minates that'  the  effect  on  Carleton  would  be 
disastrous.  But  they  were  never  gratified. 
"  'T  ain't  no  use  answerin'  back,"  was  all  he 
said.     "  He  don't  know  no  better,  poor  critter." 

Indeed,  it  was  only  when  a  great  personal 
danger  threatened  his  men  that  the  captain's 
every-day,  conventional  English  seemed  inade- 
quate. On  such  occasions,  when  the  slightest 
error  on  the  part  of  his  working  force  might 
result  in  the  instant  death  or  the  maiming  of 
one  of  them,  certain  and  it  is  to  be  hoped  unre- 
corded outbursts  of  profanity,  soaring  into  cres- 
cendos  and  ending  in  fortissimos,  would  often 
escape  from  the  captain's  lips  with  a  vim  and 


"HEAVE  HO"   OF  LONNY  BOWLES     125 

rush  that  would  have  raised  the  hair  of  his 
Puritan  ancestors,  —  rockets  of  oaths,  that 
kindled  with  splutters  of  dissatisfaction,  flamed 
into  showers  of  abuse,  and  burst  into  blas- 
phemies which  cleared  the  atmosphere  like 
a  thunderclap.  For  these  transgressions  he 
never  made  any  apology.  In  the  roar  of  the 
sea  they  seemed  sometimes  the  only  ammuni- 
tion he  could  depend  upon.  "  Somebody  '11  git 
hurted  round  here,  if  ye  ain't  careful ;  somehow 
I  can't  make  ye  understand  no  other  way,"  he 
would  say.  This  was  as  near  as  he  ever  came 
to  apologizing  for  his  sinfulness.  But  he  never 
wasted  any  of  these  explosives  on  such  men  as 
Carleton. 

As  the  superintendent  persisted  in  his  re- 
fusal to  give  the  certificate  of  acceptance,  and 
as  each  day  was  precious,  Sanford,  whose  con- 
fidence in  the  stability  and  correctness  of  the 
work  which  he  and  Captain  Joe  had  done  was 
unshaken,  determined  to  begin  the  erection 
of  the  four  derricks  at  once.  He  accordingly 
gave  orders  to  clear  away  the  mixing-boards 
and  tools  ;  thus  burning  his  bridges  behind  him, 
should  the  inspection  of  the  engineer-in-chief 
necessitate  any  additional  work  on  the  concrete 
disk. 

These  derricks,  with  their  winches  and  chain 
guys,  were  now  lying  on  the  jagged  rocks  of 
the  Ledge,  where  they  had  been  landed  the 
day  before  by  Captain  Brandt  with  the  boom 


126        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

of  the  Screamer,  —  now  stanch  and  sound  as 
ever,  a  new  engine  and  boiler  on  her  deck. 
They  were  designed  to  lift  and  set  the  cut- 
stone  masonry  of  the  superstructure,  —  the  top 
course  at  a  height  of  fifty-eight  feet  above  the 
water-line.  These  stones  weighed  from  six  to 
thirteen  tons  each. 

During  the  delay  that  followed  the  accident 
the  weather  had  been  unsually  fine.  Day  after 
day  the  sun  had  risen  on  a  sea  of  silver  reflect- 
ing the  blue  of  a  cloudless  sky,  with  wavy  tide- 
lines  engraved  on  its  polished  surface.  At 
dawn  Crotch  Island  had  been  an  emerald,  and 
at  sunset  an  amethyst. 

With  the  beginning  of  the  dog-days,  however, 
the  weather  had  changed.  Dull  leaden  fog- 
banks  dimming  the  distant  horizon  had  blended 
into  a  pearly-white  sky.  Restless,  wandering 
winds  sulked  in  dead  calms,  or  broke  in  fitful, 
peevish  blasts.  Opal-tinted  clouds  showed  at 
sunrise,  and  prismatic  rings  of  light  surrounded 
the  moon,  —  all  sure  signs  of  a  coming  storm. 

Captain  Joe  watched  the  changing  sky  where 
hour  by  hour  were  placarded  the  bulletins  of 
the  impending  outbreak,  and  redoubled  his  ef- 
forts on  the  lines  of  the  watch-tackles  at  which 
the  men  were  tugging,  pulling  the  derricks  to 
their  places. 

By  ten  o'clock  on  the  15  th  of  August,  three 
of  the  four  derricks,  their  tops  connected  by 
heavy   wire   rope,   had   been  stepped   in  their 


"HEAVE  HO"   OF  LONNY  BOWLES     127 

sockets  and  raised  erect,  and  their  seaward 
guys  had  been  made  fast,  Caleb  securing  the 
ends  himself.  By  noon,  the  last  derrick  —  the 
fourth  leg  of  the  chair,  as  it  were  —  was  also 
nearly  perpendicular,  the  men  tugging  ten  deep 
on  the  line  of  the  watch-tackles.  This  derrick, 
being  the  last  of  the  whole  system  and  the 
most  difficult  to  handle,  was  under  the  imme- 
diate charge  of  Captain  Joe.  On  account  of 
its  position,  which  necessitated  the  bearing  of  its 
own  strain  and  that  of  the  other  three  derricks 
as  well,  its  outboard  seaward  guy  was  as  heavy 
as  that  of  a  ship's  anchor-chain.  The  final 
drawing  taut  of  this  chain,  some  sixty  feet  in 
length,  stretching,  as  did  the  smaller  ones, 
from  the  top  of  the  derrick-mast  down  to  the 
enrockment  block,  and  the  fastening  of  its  sea 
end  in  the  block,  would  not  only  complete  the 
system  of  the  four  erected  derricks,  but  would 
make  them  permanent  and  strong  enough  to 
resist  either  sea  action  or  any  weight  that  they 
might  be  required  to  lift.  The  failure  to  secure 
this  chain  guy  into  the  anchoring  enrockment 
block,  or  any  sudden  break  in  the  other  guys, 
would  result  not  only  in  instantly  toppling  over 
the  fourth  derrick  itself,  but  in  dragging  the 
three  erect  derricks  with  it.  This  might  mean, 
too,  the  crushing  to  death  of  some  of  the  men  ; 
for  the  slimy,  ooze-covered  rocks  and  concrete 
disk  on  which  they  had  to  stand  and  work  made 
hurried  escape  impossible. 


128        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

To  insure  an  easier  connection  between  this 
last  chain  and  the  enrockment  block,  Caleb  had 
fastened  below  water,  into  the  Lewis  hole  of 
the  block,  a  long  iron  hook.  Captain  Joe's 
problem,  which  he  was  now  about  to  solve,  was 
to  catch  this  hook  into  a  steel  ring  which  was 
attached  to  the  end  of  the  chain  guy.  The 
drawing  together  of  this  hook  and  ring  was  to  be 
done  by  means  of  a  watch-tackle,  which  tight- 
ened the  chain  guy  inch  by  inch,  the  gang  of 
men  standing  in  line  while  Captain  Joe,  ring  in 
hand,  waited  to  slip  it  into  the  hook.  A  stage 
manager  stretching  a  tight-rope  supported  on 
saw-horses,  with  a  similar  tackle,  solves,  on  a 
smaller  scale,  just  such  a  problem  every  night. 

Carleton,  who  never  ran  any  personal  risks, 
sat  on  the  platform,  out  of  harm's  way,  sneering 
at  the  men's  struggles,  and  protesting  that  it 
was  impossible  to  put  up  the  four  derricks  at 
once.  Sanford  was  across  the  disk,  some  fifty 
feet  from  Captain  Joe,  studying  the  effect  of  the 
increased  strain  on  the  outboard  guys  of  the 
three  derricks  already  placed. 

The  steady  rhythmic  movement  of  the  men, 
ankle-deep  in  the  water,  swaying  in  unison,  close- 
stepped,  tugging  at  the  tackle-line,  like  a  file  of 
soldiers, keeping  time  to  Lonny  Bowles's  "Heave 
ho,"  had  brought  the  hook  and  ring  within  six 
feet  of  each  other,  when  the  foot  of  one  of  the 
men  slipped  on  the  slimy  ooze  and  tripped  up 
the  man  next   him.     In  an  instant  the  whole 


"HEAVE  HO"   OF  LONNY  BOWLES     129 

gang  were  floundering  among  the  rocks  and  in 
the  water,  the  big  fourth  derrick  swaying  un- 
easily, like  a  tree  that  was  doomed. 

"  Every  man  o'  ye  as  ye  were  ! "  shouted 
Captain  Joe,  without  even  a  look  at  the  superin- 
tendent, who  had  laughed  outright  at  their  fall. 
While  he  was  shouting  he  had  twisted  a  safety- 
line  around  a  projecting  rock  to  hold  the  strain 
until  the  men  could  regain  their  feet.  The 
great  derrick  tottered  for  a  moment,  steadied 
itself  like  a  drunken  man,  and  remained  still. 
The  other  three  quivered,  their  top  connecting 
guys  sagging  loose. 

"  Now  make  fast,  an'  two  'r  three  of  ye  come 
here  !  "  cried  the  captain  again.  In  the  easing 
of  the  strain  caused  by  the  slipping  of  the  men, 
the  six  feet  of  space  between  hook  and  ring  had 
gone  back  to  ten. 

Two  men  scrambled  like  huge  crabs  over  the 
slippery  rocks,  and  relieved  Captain  Joe  of  the 
end  of  the  safety-line.  The  others  stood  firm 
and  held  taut  the  tug-lines  of  the  watch-tackle. 
The  slow,  rhythmic  movement  of  the  gang  to 
the  steady  "Heave  ho"  began  again.  The 
slack  of  the  tackle  was  taken  up,  and  the  ten 
feet  between  the  hook  and  the  ring  were  re- 
duced to  five.  Half  an  hour  more,  and  the  four 
great  derricks  would  be  anchored  safe  against 
any  contingency. 

The  strain  on  the  whole  system  became  once 
more  intense.    The  seaward  guy  of  the  opposite 


130        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

derrick  —  the  one  across  the  concrete  disk  — 
shook  ominously  under  the  enormous  tension. 
Loud  creaks  could  be  heard  as  the  links  of  the 
chain  untwisted  and  the  derricks  turned  on  their 
rusty  pintles. 

Then  a  sound  like  a  pistol-shot  rang  out  clear 
and  sharp. 

Captain  Joe  heard  Sanford's  warning  cry,  but 
before  the  men  could  ease  the  strain  one  of  the 
seaward  guys  that  fastened  the  top  of  its  der- 
rick to  its  enrockment-block  anchorage  snapped 
with  a  springing  jerk,  writhed  like  a  snake  in 
the  air,  and  fell  in  a  swirl  across  the  disk  of  con- 
crete, barely  missing  the  men. 

The  gang  at  the  tug-line  turned  their  heads, 
and  the  bravest  of  them  grew  pale.  The  oppo- 
site derrick,  fifty  feet  away,  was  held  upright 
by  but  a  single  safety-rope.  If  this  should 
break,  the  whole  system  of  four  derricks,  with 
its  tons  of  chain  guys  and  wire  rope,  would  be 
down  upon  their  heads. 

Carleton  ran  to  the  end  of  the  platform, 
ready  to  leap.  Sanford  ordered  him  back. 
Two  of  the  men,  in  the  uncertainty  of  the  mo- 
ment, slackened  their  hold.  A  third,  a  new- 
comer, turned  to  run  towards  the  concrete,  as  the 
safer  place,  when  Caleb's  viselike  hand  grasped 
his  shoulder  and  threw  him  back  in  line. 

There  was  but  one  chance  left,  —  to  steady 
the  imperiled  derrick  with  a  temporary  guy 
strong  enough  to  stand  the  strain. 


"HEAVE  HO"   OF  LONNY  BOWLES     131 
"  Stand  by  on  that  watch-tackle,  every 


man  o'   ye  !     Don't    one  o'    ye   move  !  " 

shouted  Captain  Joe  in  a  voice  that  drowned 
all  other  sounds. 

The  men  sprang  into  line  and  stood  together 
in  dogged  determination. 

"  Take  a  man,  Caleb,  as  quick 's  God  '11  let 
ye,  an'  run  a  wire  guy  out  on  that  derrick." 
The  order  was  given  in  a  low  voice  that  showed 
the  gravity  of  the  situation. 

Caleb  and  Lonny  Bowles  stepped  from  the 
line,  leaped  over  the  slippery  rocks,  splashed 
across  the  concrete  disk,  now  a  shallow  lake 
with  the  rising  tide,  and  picked  up  another 
tackle  as  they  plunged  along  to  where  Sanford 
stood,  the  water  over  his  rubber  boots.  They 
dragged  a  new  guy  towards  the  imperiled  der- 
rick. Lonny  Bowles,  in  his  eagerness  to  catch 
the  dangling  end  of  the  parted  guy,  began  to 
scale  the  derrick-mast  itself,  climbing  by  the 
foot-rests,  when  Captain  Joe's  crescendo  voice 
overhauled  him.  He  knew  the  danger  better 
than  Bowles. 

"  Come  down  out'er  that,  Lonny !  "  (Gentle 
oaths.)  "  Come  down,  I  tell  ye  !  "  (Oaths  cres- 
cendo.) "  Don't  ye  know  no  better  'n  to  "  — 
(Oaths  fortissimo.)  "  Do  ye  want  to  pull  that 
derrick  clean  over  ? "     (Oaths  fortissimisso.) 

Bowles  slid  from  the  mast  just  as  Sanford's 
warning  cry  scattered  the  men  below  him. 
There  came  a  sudden  jerk;  the  opposite  der- 


i32        CALEB   WEST,    MASTER   DIVER 

rick  trembled,  staggered  for  a  moment,  and 
swooped  through  the  air  towards  the  men, 
dragging  in  its  fall  the  two  side  derricks  with  all 
their  chains  and  guys. 

"  Down  between  the  rocks,  heads  under,  every 
man  o'  ye  !  "  shouted  the  captain. 

The  captain  sprang  last,  crouching  up  to  his 
neck  in  the  sea,  his  head  below  the  jagged 
points  of  two  rough  stones,  just  as  the  huge 
fourth  derrick,  under  which  he  had  stood, 
lunged  wildly,  and  with  a  ringing  blow  struck 
a  stone  within  three  feet  of  his  head,  —  the 
great  anchor-chain  guy  twisting  like  a  cobra 
over  the  slimy  rocks. 

When  all  was  still,  Sanford's  anxious  face 
rose  cautiously  from  behind  a  protecting  rock 
near  where  the  first  derrick  had  struck.  There 
came  a  cheer  of  safety  from  Caleb  and  Bowles, 
answered  by  another  from  Captain  Joe,  and 
Sanford  and  the  men  crawled  out  of  their 
holes,  and  clambered  upon  the  rocks,  the  water 
dripping  from  their  clothing. 

Not  a  man  had  been  hurt ! 

"  What  did  I  tell  you  ?  "  called  out  Carleton 
sneeringly,  more  to  hide  his  alarm  than  any- 
thing else. 

"  That 's  too  bad,  Mr.  Sanford,  but  we  can't 
help  it,"  said  Captain  Joe  in  his  customary 
voice,  paying  no  more  attention  to  Carleton's 
talk  than  if  it  had  been  the  slop  of  the  waves 
at  his  feet.     "All  hands,  now,  on  these  der- 


"HEAVE  HO"   OF  LONNY  BOWLES     133 

ricks.  We  got'er  git  'em  up,  boys,  if  it  takes 
all  night." 

Again  the  men  sprang  to  his  orders,  and 
again  and  again  the  crescendos  of  oaths  culmi- 
nated in  fortissimos  of  profanity  as  the  risks  for 
the  men  increased. 

For  five  consecutive  hours  they  worked  with- 
out a  pause. 

Slowly  and  surely  the  whole  system,  begin- 
ning with  the  two  side  derricks,  whose  guys 
still  held  their  anchorage,  was  raised  upright, 
Sanford  still  watching  the  opposite  derrick,  a 
new  outward  guy  having  replaced  the  broken 
one. 

It  was  six  o'clock  when  the  four  derricks 
were  again  fairly  erect.  The  same  gang  was 
tugging  at  the  watch-tackle,  and  the  distance 
between  the  hook  and  the  ring  was  once  more 
reduced  to  five  feet.  The  hook  gained  inch  by 
inch  towards  its  anchorage.  Captain  Joe's  eyes 
gleamed  with  suppressed  satisfaction. 

All  this  time  the  tide  had  been  rising.  Most 
of  the  rough,  above -water  rocks  were  sub- 
merged, and  fully  three  feet  of  water  washed 
over  the  concrete  disk.  Only  the  tops  of  the 
rough  stones  where  Sanford  stood,  and  the  plat- 
form where  Carleton  sat,  out  of  all  danger  from 
derricks  or  sea,  were  clear  of  the  incoming 
wash. 

Meanwhile  the  Screamer's  life  -  boat  —  the 
only  means  the  men  had  that  day  of  leaving 


134        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

the  Ledge  and  boarding  the  sloop,  moored  in 
the  lee  of  the  Ledge  —  had  broken  from  her 
moorings,  and  lay  dangerously  near  the  rocks. 
The  wind  too  had  changed  to  the  east.  With 
it  came  a  long,  rolling  swell  that  broke  on  the 
eastern  derrick,  —  the  fourth  one,  the  key-note 
of  the  system,  the  one  Captain  Joe  and  the 
men  were  tightening  up. 

Suddenly  a  window  was  opened  somewhere 
in  the  heavens,  and  a  blast  of  wet  air  heaped 
the  sea  into  white  caps,  and  sent  it  bowling 
along  towards  the  Ledge  and  the  Screamer 
lying  in  the  eddy. 

Captain  Joe,  as  he  stood  with  the  hook  in  his 
hand,  watched  the  sea's  carefully  planned  at- 
tack, and  calculated  how  many  minutes  were 
left  before  it  would  smother  the  Ledge  in  a 
froth  and  end  all  work.  He  could  see,  too,  the 
Screamer's  mast  rocking  ominously  in  the  ris- 
ing sea.  If  the  wind  and  tide  increased,  she 
must  soon  shift  her  position  to  the  eddy  on 
the  other  side  of  the  Ledge.  But  no  shade  of 
anxiety  betrayed  him. 

The  steady  movement  of  the  tugging  men 
continued,  Lonny's  "  Heave  ho "  ringing  out 
cheerily  in  perfect  time.  Four  of  the  gang,  for 
better  foothold,  stood  on  the  concrete,  their 
feet  braced  to  the  iron  mould  band,  the  water 
up  to  their  pockets.  The  others  clung  with 
their  feet  to  the  slippery  rocks. 

The  hook  was  now  within  two  feet  of  the 


"HEAVE  HO"   OF  LONNY  BOWLES     135 

steel  ring,  Captain  Joe  standing  on  a  rock 
at  a  lower  level  than  the  others,  nearly  waist- 
deep  in  the  sea,  getting  ready  for  the  final 
clinch. 

Sanford  from  his  rock  had  also  been  watch- 
ing the  sea.  As  he  scanned  the  horizon,  his 
quick  eye  caught  to  the  eastward  a  huge  roller 
pushed  ahead  of  the  increasing  wind,  piling 
higher  as  it  swept  on. 

"  Look  out  for  that  sea,  Captain  Joe !  Hold 
fast,  men,  —  hold  fast!"  he  shouted,  springing 
to  a  higher  rock. 

Hardly  had  his  voice  ceased,  when  a  huge 
green  curler  threw  itself  headlong  on  the  Ledge, 
wetting  the  men  to  their  arm-pits.  Captain  Joe 
had  raised  his  eyes  for  an  instant,  grasped  the 
chain  as  a  brace,  and  taken  its  full  force  on  his 
broad  back.  When  his  head  emerged,  his  cap 
was  gone,  his  shirt  clung  to  the  muscles  of  his 
big  chest,  and  the  water  streamed  from  his  hair 
and  mouth. 

Shaking  his  head  like  a  big  water-dog,  he 
waved  his  hand,  with  a  laugh,  to  Sanford,  vol- 
leyed out  another  rattling  fire  of  orders,  and 
then  held  on  with  the  clutch  of  a  devil-fish  as 
the  next  green  roller  raced  over  him.  It  made 
no  more  impression  upon  him  than  if  he  had 
been  an  offshore  buoy. 

The  fight  now  lay  between  the  rising  sea  and 
the  men  tugging  at  the  watch-tackle.  After 
each  wave  ran  by  the  men  gained  an  inch  on 


136        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

the  tightening  line.  Every  moment  the  wind 
blew  harder,  and  every  moment  the  sea  rose 
higher.  Bowles  was  twice  washed  from  the 
rock  on  which  he  stood,  and  the  newcomer, 
who  was  unused  to  the  slime  and  ooze,  had 
been  thrown  bodily  into  a  water-hole.  Sanford 
held  to  a  rock  a  few  feet  above  Captain  Joe, 
watching  his  every  movement.  His  anxiety 
for  the  safe  erection  of  the  system  had  been 
forgotten  in  his  admiration  for  the  superb  pluck 
and  masterful  skill  of  the  surf-drenched  sea- 
titan  below  him. 

Captain  Joe  now  moved  to  the  edge  of  the 
anchor  enrockment  block,  standing  waist-deep 
in  the  sea,  one  hand  holding  the  hook,  the  other 
the  ring.  Six  inches  more  and  the  closure  would 
be  complete. 

In  heavy  strains  like  these  the  last  six  inches 
gain  slowly. 

"Give  it  to  'er,  men — all  hands  now  —  give 

it  to  'er  !     Pull,  Caleb  !     Pull,  you !  " 

(Air  full  of   Greek   fire.)     "Once   more  —  all 

together !  "      (Sky-bombs   bursting.) 

"  All  to—  " 

Again  the  sea  buried  him  out  of  sight, 
quenching  the  explosives  struggling  to  escape 
from  his  throat. 

The  wind  and  tide  increased.  The  water 
swirled  about  the  men,  the  spray  flew  over 
their  heads,  but  the  steady  pull  went  on. 

A  voice  from  the  platform  now  called  out,  — 


"HEAVE  HO"   OF  LONNY  BOWLES     137 

it  was  that  of  Nickles,  the  cook  :  "  life-boat 's 
a-poundin'  bad,  sir !  She  can't  stan'  it  much 
longer." 

Carleton's  voice  shouting  to  Sanford  from 
the  platform  came  next :  "  I  'm  not  going  to 
stay  here  all  night  and  get  wet.  I  'm  going  to 
Keyport  in  the  Screamer.  Send  some  men 
to  catch  this  life-boat." 

The  captain  raised  his  head  and  looked  at 
Nickles  ;  Carleton  he  never  saw. 

"  Let  'r  pound  an'  be  damned  to  'er !  Go  on, 
Caleb,  with  that  tackle.  Pull,  ye  "  —  Another 
wave  went  over  him,  and  another  red-hot  explo- 
sive lost  its  life. 

With  the  breaking  of  the  next  roller  the  cap- 
tain uttered  no  sound.  The  situation  was  too 
grave  for  explosives.  Whenever  his  profanity 
stopped  short  the  men  grew  nervous :  they 
knew  then  that  a  crisis  had  arrived,  one  that 
even  Captain  Joe  feared. 

The  captain  bent  over  the  chain,  one  arm 
clinging  to  the  anchorage,  his  feet  braced 
against  a  rock,  the  hook  in  his  hand  within 
an  inch  of  the  ring. 

"  Hold  hard  /"  he  shouted. 

Caleb  raised  his  hand  in  warning,  and  the 
rhythmic  movement  ceased.  The  men  stood 
still.     Every  eye  was  fixed  on  the  captain. 

"LET  GO!" 

The  big  derrick  quivered  for  an  instant  as 
the  line   slackened,    stood   still,  and   a   slight 


138        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

shiver  ran  through  the  guys.  The  hook  had 
slipped  into  the  ring ! 

The  system  of  four  derricks,  with  all  their 
guys  and  chains,  stood  as  taut  and  firm  as  a 
suspension  bridge ! 

Captain  Joe  turned  his  head  calmly  towards 
the  platform,  and  said  quietly,  "  There,  Mr. 
Carleton,  they'll  stand  now  till  hell  freezes 
over." 

As  the  cheering  of  the  men  subsided,  the 
captain,  squeezing  the  water  from  his  hair  and 
beard  with  a  quick  rasp  of  his  fingers,  sprang 
to  Sanford's  rock,  grasped  his  outstretched 
hand,  shook  it  heartily,  and  called  to  Caleb,  in 
a  firm,  cheery  voice  that  had  not  a  trace  of 
fatigue  in  it  after  twelve  hours  of  battling  with 
sea  and  derricks,  "  All  o'  you  men  what 's  goin' 
in  the  Screamer  with  Mr.  Carleton  to  Keyport 
for  Sunday  'd  better  look  out  for  that  life-boat. 
Come,  Lonny  Bowles,  pick  up  them  tackles  an' 
git  to  the  shanty.  It  '11  be  awful  soapy  round 
here  'fore  mornin'." 


CHAPTER  IX 

WHAT   THE    BUTCHER   SAW 

Caleb  sat  on  the  deck  of  the  Screamer  on 
her  homeward  run,  his  face  turned  toward  Key- 
port  Light,  beyond  which  his  little  cabin  lay. 
His  eyes  glistened,  and  there  came  a  choking 
in  his  throat  as  he  thought  of  meeting  Betty. 
He  could  even  feel  her  hand  slipped  into  his, 
and  could  hear  the  very  tones  of  her  cheery  wel- 
come, when  she  met  him  at  the  gate  and  they 
walked  together  up  the  garden  path  to  the  porch. 

Most  of  the  men  who  had  stood  to  the  watch- 
tackles  in  the  rolling  surf  sat  beside  him  on  the 
sloop.  Those  who  were  still  wet,  including 
Sanford,  had  gone  below  into  the  cabin,  out  of 
the  cutting  wind.  Those  who,  like  Caleb,  had 
changed  their  clothes,  sat  on  the  after  deck. 
Captain  Joe,  against  Sanford's  earnest  protest, 
had  remained  on  the  Ledge  for  the  night.  He 
wanted,  he  said,  to  see  how  the  derricks  would 
stand  the  coming  storm. 

It  had  been  a  busy  month  for  the  diver. 
Since  the  explosion  he  had  been  almost  con- 
stantly in  his  rubber  dress,  working  not  only 
his  regular  four  hours  under  water,  —  all  that 


140        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

an  ordinary  man  could  stand,  —  but  taking 
another's  place  for  an  hour  or  two  when  some 
piece  of  submarine  work  at  the  Ledge  required 
his  more  skillful  eye  and  hand.  He  had  set 
some  fifty  or  more  of  the  big  enrockment  blocks 
in  thirty  feet  of  water,  each  block  being  lowered 
into  position  by  the  Screamer's  boom,  and  he 
had  prepared  the  anchor  sockets  in  which  to 
step  the  four  great  derricks.  Twice  he  had 
been  swept  from  his  hold  by  the  racing  current, 
and  once  his  helmet  had  struck  a  projecting 
rock  with  such  force  that  he  was  deaf  for  days. 
His  hands,  too,  had  begun  to  blister  from  the 
salt  water  and  hot  sun.  Betty,  on  his  last  Sun- 
day at  home,  had  split  up  one  of  her  own  little 
gloves  for  plasters,  and  tried  to  heal  his  blisters 
with  some  salve.  But  it  had  not  done  his 
bruises  much  good,  he  thought,  as  he  probed 
with  his  stub  of  a  thumb  the  deeper  cracks  in 
his  tough,  leathery  palms. 

Now  that  the  men  were  convalescent  he  glo- 
ried more  and  more  in  his  wife's  energy  and 
capacity.  To  relieve  a  wounded  man,  serve  him 
night  and  day,  and  by  skill,  tenderness,  and  self- 
sacrifice  get  him  once  more  well  and  sound  and 
on  his  legs,  able  to  do  a  day's  work  and  earn  a 
day's  pay, — this,  to  Caleb,  was  something  to 
be  proud  of  and  to  glory  in.  But  for  her  nurs- 
ing, he  would  often  say,  poor  Billy  would  now 
be  among  the  tombstones  on  the  hill  back  of 
Keyport  Light. 


WHAT  THE   BUTCHER  SAW  141 

Caleb's  estimate  of  Betty's  efforts  was  not 
exaggerated.  Her  patient  had  been  the  most 
severely  injured,  and  her  task  had  therefore 
been  longer  and  more  severe.  The  cut  on  La- 
cey's  cheek  and  frontal  bone,  dividing  his  eye- 
brow like  a  sabre  slash,  had  been  deep  and  ugly 
and  slow  to  heal ;  and  the  bruise  on  his  back 
had  developed  into  a  wound  that  in  its  progress 
had  sapped  his  youthful  strength.  He  had  been 
her  patient  from  the  first,  and  she  had  never 
neglected  him  an  hour  since  the  fatal  night 
when  she  helped  the  doctor  wind  his  bandages. 
When  on  the  third  day  fever  set  in,  she  had 
taken  her  seat  by  his  bedside  until  the  delirium 
had  passed.  Mrs.  Bell  and  Miss  Peebles,  the 
schoolmistress,  had  relieved  each  other  in  the 
care  of  the  other  wounded  men,  —  all  of  them, 
strange  to  say,  were  single  men,  and  all  of  them 
away  from  home. 

Betty  would  go  to  her  own  cabin  for  an  hour 
each  day,  but  as  soon  as  her  work  was  done 
she  would  pull  down  the  shades,  lock  the  house 
door,  and,  with  a  sunbonnet  on  her  head  and 
some  little  delicacy  in  her  hand,  hurry  down 
the  shore  road  again  to  the  warehouse  hospital. 
This  had  been  the  first  real  responsibility  of  her 
life,  the  first  time  in  which  anything  had  been 
expected  of  her  apart  from  the  endless  cooking 
of  three  meals  a  day,  and  the  washing  up  and 
sweeping  out  that  followed. 

There  were  no  more  lonely  hours  for  her  now. 


142        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER  DIVER 

A  new  tenderness,  too,  had  been  aroused  in  her 
nature  because  of  the  helplessness  of  the  boy 
whose  feeble,  hot  fingers  clutched  her  own. 
The  love  which  this  curly-headed  young  rigger 
had  once  avowed  for  her  when  there  were 
strength  and  ruggedness  in  every  sinew  of  his 
body,  when  his  red  lips  were  parted  over  the 
white  teeth  and  his  eyes  shone  with  pride,  had 
been  quite  forgotten  as  she  watched  by  his  bed. 
It  was  this  helplessness  of  his  which  was  ever 
present  in  her  mind,  his  suffering.  She  realized 
that  the  prostrate  young  fellow  before  her  was 
dependent  on  her  for  his  very  life  and  suste- 
nance, as  a  child  might  have  been.  It  was  for 
her  he  waited  in  the  morning,  refusing  to  touch 
his  breakfast  until  she  gave  it  to  him,  —  unable 
at  first,  reluctant  afterward.  It  was  for  her  last 
touch  on  his  pillow  that  he  waited  at  night  be- 
fore he  went  to  sleep.  It  was  she  alone  who 
brought  the  smiles  to  his  face,  or  inspired  him 
with  a  courage  he  had  almost  lost  when  the  pain 
racked  him  and  he  thought  he  might  never  be 
able  to  do  a  day's  work  again. 

The  long  confinement  had  left  its  mark  on 
Lacey.  He  was  a  mere  outline  of  himself  the 
first  day  he  was  able  to  sit  in  the  sunshine  at 
the  warehouse  door.  His  hands  were  white,  and 
his  face  was  bleached.  When  he  gained  a  lit- 
tle strength,  Captain  Joe  gave  him  light  duties 
about  the  wharf,  the  doctor  refusing  to  let  him 
go  to  the  Ledge.     But  even  after  he  was  walk- 


WHAT   THE   BUTCHER   SAW  143 

ing  about,  Betty  felt  him  still  under  her  care, 
and  prepared  dainty  dishes  for  him.  When 
she  took  them  to  him,  she  saw,  with  a  strange 
sinking  of  her  heart,  that  he  gained  but  slowly, 
and  was  still  weak  and  ill  enough  to  need  a 
woman's  care. 

The  story  of  her  nursing  and  of  the  doctor's 
constant  tribute  to  her  skill  was  well  known, 
and  Caleb,  usually  so  reticent,  would  talk  of  it 
again  and  again.  Most  of  the  men  liked  to 
humor  his  pride  in  her,  for  Betty's  blithesome, 
cheery  nature  made  her  a  favorite  wherever  she 
was  known. 

"  I  kind'er  wish  Cap'n  Joe  had  come  ashore 
to-night,"  Caleb  said,  turning  to  Captain  Brandt, 
who  stood  beside  him,  his  hand  on  the  tiller. 
"He's  been  soakin'  wet  all  day,  an'  he  won't  put 
nothin'  dry  on  ef  I  ain't  with  him.  'T  warn't 
for  Betty  I  'd  'a'  stayed,  but  the  little  gal 's  so 
lonesome  't  ain't  right  to  leave  her.  I  don' 
know  what  Lacey  'd  done  but  for  Betty.  Did 
ye  see  'er,  Lonny,  when  she  come  in  that 
night  ? "  All  the  little  by-paths  of  Caleb's  talk 
led  to  Betty. 

It  was  the  same  old  question,  but  Lonny, 
seated  on  the  other  side  of  the  deck,  fell  in  will- 
ingly with  Caleb's  mood. 

"  See  'er  ?  Wall,  I  guess  !  I  thought  she  'd 
keel  over  when  the  doctor  washed  Billy's  face. 
He  did  look  ragged,  an'  no  mistake,  Caleb  ; 
but  she  held  on  an'  never  give  in  a  mite." 


144        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

Carleton  sat  close  enough  to  overhear  the 
remark. 

"  Why  should  n't  she  ?  "  he  sneered,  behind 
his  hand,  to  the  man  next  him.  "  Lacey  's  a 
blamed  sight  better  looking  fellow  than  what 
she  's  got.  The  girl  knows  a  good  thing  when 
she  sees  it.     If  it  was  me,  I  'd  "  — 

He  never  finished  the  sentence.  Caleb  over- 
heard the  remark,  and  rose  from  his  seat,  with 
an  expression  in  his  eyes  that  could  not  be  mis- 
understood. Sanford,  watching  the  group 
through  the  cabin  window,  and  not  knowing 
the  cause  of  Caleb's  sudden  anger,  said  after- 
wards that  the  diver  looked  like  an  old  gray 
wolf  gathering  himself  for  a  spring,  as  he  stood 
over  Carleton  with  hands  tightly  clinched. 

The  superintendent  made  some  sort  of  half 
apology  to  Caleb,  and  the  diver  took  his  seat 
again,  but  did  not  forgive  him  ;  neither  did  the 
older  men,  who  had  seen  Betty  grow  up,  and 
who  always  spoke  of  her  somehow  as  if  she 
belonged  to  them. 

"T  ain't  decent,"  said  Lonny  Bowles  to 
Sanford  when  he  had  joined  him  later  in  the 
cabin  of  the  Screamer  and  had  repeated  Carle- 
ton's  remark,  "for  a  man  to  speak  agin  a 
woman ;  such  fellers  ain't  no  better  'n  rattle- 
snakes an'  ought'er  be  trompled  on,  if  they  is 
in  guv'ment  pay." 

When  the  sloop  reached  Keyport  harbor,  the 
men  were  landed  as  near  as  possible  to  their 


WHAT   THE   BUTCHER   SAW  145 

several  homes.  Caleb,  in  his  kindly  voice,  bade 
+  good-night  to  Sanford,  to  Captain  Brandt,  to  the 
crew,  and  to  the  working  gang.  To  Carleton 
he  said  nothing.  He  would  have  overlooked 
and  forgotten  an  affront  put  upon  himself,  but 
never  one  upon  Betty. 

"  She  ain't  got  nobody  but  an  ol*  feller  like 
me,"  he  often  said  to  Captain  Joe,  —  "no  chillen 
nor  nothin',  poor  little  gal.  I  got  to  make  it  up 
to  her  some  way." 

As  he  walked  up  the  path  he  was  so  en- 
grossed with  Carleton's  flippant  remark,  con- 
ning it  over  in  his  mind  to  tell  Betty, — he 
knew  she  did  not  like  him,  —  that  he  forgot  for 
the  moment  that  she  was  not  at  the  garden 
gate. 

He  looked  up  at  the  house  and  noticed  that 
the  shades  were  pulled  down  on  the  garden  side 
of  the  house. 

"She  ain't  sick,  is  she?"  he  said  to  himself. 
"I  guess  nussin'  Lacey's  been  too  much  for 
her.  I  ought'er  knowed  she'd  break  down. 
'Pears  to  me  she  did  look  peaked  when  I  bid 
her  good-by  las'  Monday." 

"  Ye  ain't  sick,  little  woman,  be  ye  ? "  he 
called  out  as  he  opened  the  door. 

There  was  no  response.  He  walked  quickly 
through  the  kitchen,  passed  into  the  small  hall, 
calling  her  as  he  went,  mounted  the  narrow 
stairs,  and  opened  the  bedroom  door  softly, 
thinking  she  might  be  asleep.     The  shutters 


146        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

were  closed,  the  room  was  in  perfect  order. 
The  bed  was  empty.  The  sheet  and  covering  * 
were  turned  neatly  on  his  side,  and  the  bedding 
was  clean  and  had  not  been  slept  in.  At  its 
foot,  within  reach  of  his  hand,  lay  his  big  carpet 
slippers  that  she  had  made  for  him.  He  stooped 
mechanically,  gazing  at  the  untouched  pillow, 
still  wondering  why  she  had  turned  the  sheet, 
his  mind  relieved  now  that  she  was  not  ill. 

Then  he  remembered  that  it  was  not  yet 
dark,  and  that,  on  account  of  the  coming  storm, 
he  was  an  hour  earlier  than  usual  in  getting 
home.  His  face  lightened.  He  saw  it  all  now : 
Betty  had  not  expected  him  so  soon,  and  would 
be  home  in  a  little  while. 

When  he  entered  the  kitchen  again  he  saw 
the  table.  There  was  but  one  plate  laid,  with 
the  knife  and  fork  beside  it.  This  was  covered 
by  a  big  china  bowl.  Under  it  was  some  cold 
meat  with  the  bread  and  butter.  Near  the  table, 
by  the  stove,  a  freshly  ironed  shirt  hung  over  a 
chair. 

He  understood  it  all  now.  She  had  put  his 
supper  and  his  shirt  where  he  would  find  them, 
and  was  not  coming  home  till  late.  He  would 
"  clean  up  "  right  away,  so  as  to  be  ready  for  her. 

When  he  had  washed,  dressed  himself  in  his 
house  clothes,  and  combed  his  big  beard,  he 
dragged  a  chair  out  on  the  front  porch,  to  watch 
for  her  up  and  down  the  road. 

The  men  going  home,  carrying  their  dinner- 


WHAT   THE    BUTCHER   SAW  147 

pails,  nodded  to  him  as  they  passed,  and  one 
stopped  and  leaned  over  the  gate  long  enough 
to  wonder  whether  the  big  August  storm  would 
break  that  night,  adding,  "  We  generally  has  a 
blow  'bout  this  time." 

While  he  sat  waiting  the  butcher  stopped  to 
leave  the  weekly  piece  of  meat  for  Sunday,  — 
the  itinerant  country  butcher,  with  his  shop  in 
one  of  the  neighboring  villages,  and  his  custom- 
ers up  and  down  all  the  roads  that  led  out  of 
it ;  supplies  for  every  household  in  his  wagon, 
and  the  gossip  of  every  family  on  his  lips. 

His  wagon  had  sides  of  canvas  painted  white, 
with  "Fish,  Meat  and  Poultry"  in  a  half -moon 
of  black  letters  arching  over  the  owner's  name, 
and  was  drawn  by  a  horse  that  halted  and 
moved  on,  not  by  the  touch  of  the  lines,  — 
they  were  always  caught  to  a  hook  in  the  roof 
of  the  wagon,  —  but  by  a  word  from  the  butcher, 
who  stood  at  the  tail-board,  where  the  scales 
dangled,  sorting  fish,  hacking  off  pieces  of  red 
meat,  or  weighing  scraggly  chickens  propor- 
tionate to  the  wants  and  means  of  his  various 
customers.  He  was  busying  himself  at  this 
tail-board,  the  dripping  of  the  ice  pock-marking 
the  dusty  road  below,  when  he  caught  sight  of 
Caleb. 

"  Wall,  I  kind'er  hoped  somebody  'd  be  hum," 
he  said  to  himself,  wrapping  the  six-pound  roast 
in  a  piece  of  yellow  paper.  With  a  tuck  to  his 
blue  over-sleeves,   he  swung  open  the  gate. 


148        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

"  So  ye  did  n't  go  'long,  Caleb,  with  Mis'  West  ? 
I  see  it  begin  to  blow  heavy,  and  was  wond'rin' 
whether  you  'd  get  in  —  best  cut,  you  see," 
opening  the  paper  for  Caleb's  inspection,  "  and 
I  broke  them  ribs  jes'  's  Mis'  West  allers  -wants 
'em.  Then  I  wondered  agin  how  ye  could  leave 
the  Ledge  at  all  to-day.  Mis'  Bell  tol'  me  yes- 
terday the  cap'n  was  goin'  to  set  them  derricks. 
I  see  'em  a-layin'  on  the  dock  'fore  that  Cape 
Ann  sloop  loaded  'em,  an'  they  was  monstrous, 
an'  no  mistake.  Have  some  butter?  She 
did  n't  order  none  this  mornin',  but  I  got  some 
come  in  this  forenoon,  sweet 's  a  nut,  —  four 
pounds  for  a  dollar,  an'  "  — 

Caleb  looked  at  him  curiously.  "  Where  did 
the  wife  say  she  was  a-goin'  ?  "  he  interrupted. 

"Wall,  she  didn't  say,  'cause  I  didn't  ketch 
up  to  her.  I  was  comin'  down  Nollins  Hill 
over  to  Noank,  when  I  see  her  ahead,  walkin' 
down  all  in  her  Sunday  rig,  carryin'  a  little  bag 
like.  I  tho't  maybe  she  was  over  to  see  the 
Nollins  folks,  till  I  left  seven  pounds  fresh 
mackerel  nex'  door  to  Stubbins's,  an'  some  Del- 
aware eggs.  Then  I  see  my  stock  of  ice  was 
nigh  gone,  so  I  druv  down  to  the  steamboat 
dock,  an'  there  I  catched  sight  of  'er  agin  jes' 
goin'  aboard.  I  knowed  then,  of  course,  she  was 
off  for  Greenport  an'  New  York,  an'  was  jes' 
sayin'  to  myself,  Wall,  I  '11  stop  an'  see  if  any- 
body 's  ter  hum,  an'  if  they  're  all  gone  I  won't 
leave  the  meat,  but  "  — 


WHAT   THE   BUTCHER   SAW  149 

"  Put  the  meat  in  the  kitchen,"  said  Caleb, 
without  rising  from  his  chair. 

When  the  butcher  drove  off,  the  diver  had 
not  moved.  His  gaze  was  fixed  on  the  turn  of 
the  road.  Beads  of  sweat  stood  out  on  his  fore- 
head. A  faint  sickness  unnerved  him.  Had 
he  been  cross  or  impatient  with  her  the  last 
time  he  was  at  home,  that  she  should  serve  him 
so  ?  Then  a  surge  of  anxiety  swept  over  him,  as 
he  thought  of  Betty  going  without  letting  him 
know.  Why  should  she  walk  all  the  way  to 
Noank  and  take  the  boat  across  the  Sound, 
twenty  miles  away,  if  she  wanted  to  go  to  New 
York  ?  The  railroad  station  was  nearer  and  the 
fare  through  was  cheaper.  He  would  have 
taken  her  himself,  if  he  had  only  known  she 
wanted  to  go.  He  could  have  asked  Captain 
Joe  to  give  him  a  couple  of  days  off,  and  would 
have  gone  with  her.  If  she  had  only  left  some 
message,  or  sent  some  word  by  the  men  to  the 
Ledge!  Then,  as  his  thoughts  traveled  in  a 
circle,  catching  at  straws,  his  brain  whirling,  his 
eye  fell  upon  the  clump  of  trees  shading  Cap- 
tain Joe's  cottage.  Aunty  Bell  would  know,  of 
course  ;  why  had  he  not  thought  of  that  before  ? 
Betty  told  Aunty  Bell  everything. 

The  busy  little  woman  sat  on  the  porch  shell- 
ing peas,  the  pods  popping  about  her  bright  tin 
pan,  as  Caleb  came  up  the  board  walk. 

"Why,  ye  need  n't  hev  give  yerself  the  trouble, 
Caleb,  to  come  all  the  way  down ! "  she  called 


ISO        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

out  as  he  came  within  hearing.  "  Lonny 
Bowles 's  jest  been  here  and  told  me  cap'n  ain't 
comin'  home  till  Monday.  I  'm  'mazin'  glad 
them  derricks  is  up.  He  ain't  done  nothin'  but 
worrit  about  'em  since  spring  opened,  'fraid 
somebody  'd  get  hurted  when  he  set  'em.  Took 
a  lantern,  here,  night  'fore  last,  jest  as  we  was 
goin'  to  bed,  after  he  'd  been  loadin'  'em  aboard 
the  Screamer  all  day,  an'  went  down  to  the 
dock  to  see  if  Bill  Lacey  'd  shrunk  them  collars 
on  tight  enough.  Guess  Betty 's  glad  yer  home. 
I  ain't  see  her  to-day,  but  I  don't  lay  it  up  agin 
her.  I  knowed  she  was  busy  cleanin'  up  'gin  ye 
come." 

Caleb's  heart  leaped  into  his  throat.  If 
Betty  had  not  told  Aunty  Bell,  there  was  no 
one  else  who  would  know  her  movements.  It 
was  on  his  lips  to  tell  her  what  the  butcher 
had  seen,  when  something  in  his  heart  choked 
his  utterance.  If  Betty  had  not  wanted  any 
one  to  know,  there  was  no  use  of  his  talking 
about  it. 

A  man  of  different  temperament,  a  nervous 
or  easily  alarmed  or  suspicious  man,  would  have 
caught  at  every  clue  and  followed  it  to  the  end. 
Caleb  waited  and  kept  still.  She  would  tele- 
graph or  write  him  and  explain  it  all,  he  said  to 
himself,  or  send  some  one  to  see  him  before 
bedtime.  So  he  merely  answered  he  was  glad 
Aunty  Bell  knew  about  Captain  Joe,  nodded 
good-night,  and  passed  slowly  down  the  board 


WHAT   THE   BUTCHER   SAW  151 

walk  and  up  the  road,  his  head  on  his  chest,  his 
big  beard  blowing  about  his  neck  in  the  rising 
wind.  He  kept  saying  to  himself  that  Betty 
would  telegraph  or  write  and  explain  it  all,  or 
send  some  one  to  see  him  before  bedtime. 

It  was  dark  when  he  reached  home.  He  lit 
the  kerosene  lamp  and  pulled  down  the  shades. 
He  did  not  want  passers-by  to  know  he  was 
alone.  For  an  hour  or  more  he  strode  up  and 
down  the  kitchen,  his  thumbs  in  his  suspenders, 
his  supper  untouched.  Now  and  then  he  would 
stop  as  if  listening  for  a  footfall,  or  fix  his  eye 
minutes  at  a  time  on  some  crack  in  the  floor 
or  other  object,  gazing  abstractedly  at  it,  his 
thoughts  far  away.  Once  he  drew  the  lamp 
close  and  picked  up  the  evening  paper,  adjust- 
ing his  big  glasses  ;  reading  the  same  lines  over 
and  over,  until  the  paper  fell  of  itself  from  his 
hands.  Soon,  worn  out  with  the  hard  fight  of 
the  day,  he  fell  asleep  in  his  chair,  awaking 
some  hours  after,  his  mind  torn  with  anxiety. 
Then  he  took  off  his  shoes  and  crept  upstairs 
in  his  stocking  feet,  holding  to  the  balustrade 
as  a  tired  man  will  do,  entered  his  bedroom, 
and  dropped  into  a  chair. 

All  through  the  night  he  slept  fitfully  ;  wak- 
ing with  sudden  starts,  roused  by  the  feeling 
that  some  horrible  shadow  had  settled  upon 
him,  that  something  he  could  not  name  to  him- 
self was  standing  behind  him  —  always  there, 
making  him  afraid  to  turn  and  look.     When  he 


152        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

was  quite  awake,  and  saw  the  dim  outlines  of 
the  untouched  bed  with  its  smooth  white  pil- 
lows, the  undefinable  fear  would  slowly  take 
shape,  and  he  would  start  up  in  his  chair,  and 
as  if  to  convince  himself  he  would  take  a  long 
look  at  the  bed,  with  the  relief  of  one  able  at 
last  to  explain  a  horror  the  vagueness  of  which 
had  tortured  him.  "  Yes,  I  know,  Betty 's 
gone."  Then,  overcome  with  fatigue,  he  would 
doze  again. 

With  the  breaking  of  the  day  he  sprang  from 
his  chair,  half  dazed,  threw  up  the  narrow  sash 
to  feel  the  touch  of  the  cool,  real  world,  and 
peered  between  the  slats  of  the  shutters,  lis- 
tening to  the  wind  outside,  now  blowing  a  gale 
and  dashing  against  the  blinds. 

None  of  the  other  houses  were  open  yet.  He 
was  glad  of  that,  glad  of  their  bare,  cold,  indif- 
ferent exteriors,  blind  to  the  outside  world.  It 
was  as  though  he  felt  his  secret  still  safe  from 
prying  eyes,  and  he  meant  to  guard  it  always 
from  them ;  to  let  none  of  them  know  what  his 
night  had  been,  or  that  Betty  had  been  away 
for  so  long  without  telling  him.  When  she 
came  home  again  she  would  help,  he  knew,  to 
smooth  away  the  marks  of  it  all,  the  record  of 
his  pain.  Her  bright  face  would  look  up  into 
his,  her  little  hands  pat  his  cheeks,  and  he 
would  then  know  all  about  it,  why  she  went  and 
where,  and  he  would  take  the  little  girl  wife  in 
his  arms,  and  comfort  her  in  the  suffering  that 


WHAT   THE   BUTCHER   SAW  153 

would  surely  come  to  her  when  she  discovered 
that  her  thoughtlessness  had  caused  him  any 
misery. 

No !  He  would  tell  no  one.  He  would  sim- 
ply wait,  all  day  if  necessary,  all  day  and  another 
night.  He  could  trust  her.  It  was  all  right, 
he  knew.     He  did  not  even  mind  the  waiting. 

Then  while  he  was  still  thinking,  still  de- 
termining to  keep  silent,  still  satisfying  himself 
that  all  was  well,  he  turned  rapidly  and  tiptoed 
downstairs. 

With  nervous,  trembling  fingers  he  took  a 
suit  of  tarpaulins  and  a  sou'wester  from  a  hook 
behind  the  porch  door,  and  walked  down  to  the 
dock.  Some  early  lobstermen,  bailing  a  skiff, 
saw  him  stand  for  a  moment,  look  about  him, 
and  spring  aboard  a  flat-bottomed  sharpie,  the 
only  boat  near  by,  —  a  good  harbor  boat,  but 
dangerous  in/ough  weather.  To  their  aston- 
ishment, he  raised  the  three-cornered  sail  and 
headed  for  the  open  sea. 

"  Guess  Caleb  must  be  crazy,"  said  one  man, 
resting  his  scoop  for  a  moment,  as  he  watched 
the  boat  dip  almost  bow  under.  "  Thet  sharpie 
ain't  no  more  fittin'  for  thet  slop  sea  'n  ever 
was.  What  do  ye  s'pose  ails  him,  anyhow  ? 
Gosh  A'mighty !  see  her  take  them  rollers.  If 
it  was  anybody  else  but  him  he  would  n't  git  to 
the  P'int.  Don't  make  no  difference,  tho',  to 
him.  He  kin  git  along  under  water  jes'  's  well 's 
on  top." 


154        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

As  the  boat  flew  past  Keyport  Light  and 
Caleb  laid  his  course  to  the  Ledge,  the  keeper, 
now  that  the  dawn  had  come,  was  in  the  lan- 
tern putting  out  his  light  and  drawing  down  his 
shades.  Seeing  Caleb's  boat  tossing  below 
him,  he  took  down  his  glass. 

"  What  blamed  fool  is  that  tryin'  to  get  him- 
self measured  for  a  coffin  ?  "  he  said. 

The  men  were  still  asleep  when  Caleb  reached 
the  Ledge  and  threw  open  the  door  of  the 
shanty,  —  all  but  Nickles,  who  was  preparing 
breakfast.  He  looked  at  Caleb  as  if  he  had 
been  an  apparition,  and  followed  him  to  the 
door  of  Captain  Joe's  cabin,  a  little  room  by 
itself.  He  wanted  to  hear  the  dreadful  news 
he  brought.  Unless  some  one  was  dead  or 
dying  no  man  would  risk  such  a  sea  alone,  — 
not  even  an  old  sailor  like  the  diver. 

Caleb  opened  the  door  of  the  captain's  little 
room  and  closed  it  tight  behind  him,  without  a 
word  to  the  cook.  The  captain  lay  asleep  in 
his  bunk,  one  big  arm  under  his  head,  his  short 
curly  hair  matted  close. 

"  Cap'n  Joe,"  said  Caleb,  laying  his  hand  on 
the  sleeping  man's  shoulder  and  shaking  him 
gently,  —  "  Cap'n  Joe,  it 's  me,  —  Caleb." 

The  captain  raised  his  head  and  stared  at 
him.  Then  he  sat  upright,  trying  to  collect  his 
thoughts. 

"  Cap'n,  I  had  to  come  for  ye,  —  I  want  ye." 

"  It  ain't  Aunty  Bell,  is  it  ? "    said  Captain 


"No,  it's  my  Betty" 


WHAT   THE   BUTCHER   SAW  155 

Joe,  springing  to  the  floor.  The  early  hour,  the 
sough  of  the  wind  and  beating  of  the  rain  on 
the  roof  of  the  shanty,  Caleb  dripping  wet,  with 
white  drawn  face,  standing  over  him,  told  him 
in  a  flash  the  gravity  of  the  visit. 

"No,  it's  my  Betty.  She's  gone,  —  gone 
without  a  word." 

"  Gone  !     Who  with  ? " 

Caleb  sunk  on  Captain  Joe's  sea-chest,  and 
buried  his  face  in  his  blistered  hands.  For  a 
moment  he  dared  not  trust  himself  to  answer. 

"  I  don't  know  —  I  don't  know  "  —  The 
broken  words  came  between  his  rough  fingers. 
Big  tears  rolled  down  his  beard. 

"Who  says  so?  How  do  you  know  she's 
gone  ? " 

"  The  butcher  seen  'er  goin'  'board  the  boat 
at  Noank  yesterday  mornin'.  She  fixed  every- 
thin'  at  home  'fore  she  went.  I  ain't  been  to 
bed  all  night.  I  don't  know  what  ye  kin  do, 
but  I  had  to  come.  I  thought  maybe  you'd 
go  home  with  me." 

The  captain  did  not  answer.  Little  scraps  of 
gossip  that  he  had  heard  now  and  then  among 
the  men  floated  through  his  memory.  He  had 
never  paid  any  attention  to  them,  except  once 
when  he  had  rebuked  Nickles  for  repeating 
some  slurring  remark  that  Carleton  had  made 
one  night  at  table.  But  even  as  he  thought  of 
them  Betty's  face  rose  before  him,  —  her  sweet, 
girlish  face  with  its  dimples. 


156        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

"  It 's  a  dirty  lie,  Caleb,  whoever  said  it.  I 
would  n't  believe  it  if  I  see  it  myself.  Ain't 
no  better  gal  'n  Betty  ever  breathed.  Go  with 
you  !  Course  I  will 's  soon 's  I  get  my  clo'es 
on."  He  dressed  hurriedly,  caught  up  his  oil- 
skins, flung  wide  the  shanty  door,  and  made  his 
way  over  the  platforms  towards  the  wharf. 

When  they  reached  the  little  cove  in  the  rocks 
below,  where  the  smaller  boats  were  always  shel- 
tered, and  he  saw  the  sharpie,  he  stopped  short. 

"  You  ain't  come  out  here  in  that,  Caleb  ? " 

"  It  was  all  I  could  get ;  there  warn't  nothin' 
else  handy,  Cap'n  Joe." 

The  captain  looked  the  frail  sharpie  over 
from  stem  to  stern,  and  then  called  to  Nickles : 
"  Bring  down  one  'er  them  empty  ker'sene  five- 
gallon  cans ;  we  got  some  bailin'  to  do,  I  tell 
ye,  'fore  we  make  Keyport  Light.  No,  there 
ain't  nothin'  up,"  noticing  Nickles's  anxious 
face.  "  Caleb  wants  me  to  Keyport,  —  that 's 
all.  Get  breakfast,  and  tell  the  men,  when  they 
turn  out,  that  I  '11  be  back  to-morrow  in  the 
Screamer,  if  it  smooths  down." 

Caleb  took  his  seat  on  the  windward  side  of 
the  tossing  boat,  holding  the  sheet.  The  cap- 
tain sat  in  the  stern,  one  hand  on  the  tiller. 
The  kerosene-can  lay  at  their  feet.  The  knees 
of  the  two  men  touched. 

No  better  sailors  ever  guided  a  boat,  and 
none  ever  realized  more  clearly  the  dangers  of 
their  position. 


WHAT   THE   BUTCHER   SAW  157 

The  captain  settled  himself  in  his  seat  in 
silence,  his  eyes  watching  every  wave  that 
raced  by,  and  laid  his  course  towards  the  white 
tower  five  miles  away,  blurred  gray  in  the 
driving  rain.  Caleb  held  the  sheet,  his  eyes 
facing  the  long,  low  line  of  hills  where  his 
cabin  lay.  As  he  hauled  the  sheet  closer  a 
heavy  sigh  broke  from  him.  It  was  the  first 
time  since  he  had  known  Betty  that  he  had 
set  his  face  homeward  without  a  thrill  of  de- 
light filling  his  heart.  Captain  Joe  heard  the 
smothered  sigh,  and,  without  turning  his  head, 
laid  his  great  hand  with  its  stiff  thole-pin  fingers 
tenderly  on  Caleb's  wrist.  These  two  men 
knew  each  other. 

"  I  would  n't  worry,  Caleb,"  he  said,  after  a 
little.  "  That  butcher  sees  too  much,  an' 
sometimes  he  don't  know  nothin'.  He 's  allers 
got  some  cock-an'-bull  story  'bout  somebody  'r 
other.  Only  las'  week  he  come  inter  Gardiner's 
drug  store  with  a  yarn  'bout  the  old  man  bein' 
pisened,  when  it  warn't  nothin'  but  cramps. 
Ease  a  little,  Caleb  —  s-o.  Seems  to  me  it's 
blowin'  harder." 

As  he  spoke,  a  quick  slash  of  the  cruel  wind 
cut  the  top  from  a  pursuing  wave  and  flung  it 
straight  in  Caleb's  face.  The  diver,  with  his 
stiffened  fingers,  combed  the  dripping  spray 
from  his  beard,  and  without  a  word  drew  his 
tarpaulins    closer.     Captain  Joe  continued  :  — 

"  Wust  'r  them  huckster  fellers  is  they  ain't 


158        CALEB  WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

got  no  better  sense  'an  to  peddle  everythin 
they  know  'long  with  their  stuff.  Take  in  — 
take  in,  Caleb  !  That  was  a  soaker."  The  big 
wave  that  had  broken  within  a  foot  of  the 
rail  had  drenched  them  from  head  to  foot. 
"  Butcher  did  n't  say  nobody  was  with  Betty,  did 
he  ? "  he  asked,  with  a  cant  of  his  sou'wester  to 
free  it  from  sea-water. 

Caleb  shook  his  head. 

"No,  and  there  warn't  nobody.  I  tell  ye 
this  thing  '11  straighten  itself  out.  Ye  can't 
tell  what  comes  inter  women's  heads  sometimes. 
She  might'er  gone  over  to  Greenport  to  git 
some  fixin's  for  Sunday,  an'  would' er  come 
back  in  the  afternoon  boat,  but  it  blowed  so. 
Does  she  know  anybody  over  there  ? " 

Caleb  did  not  answer.  Somehow  since  he 
had  seen  Captain  Joe  hope  had  gone  out  of 
his  heart.  He  had  understood  but  too  clearly 
the  doubting  question  that  had  escaped  the 
captain's  lips,  as  he  sprang  from  the  bed  and 
looked  into  his  eyes.  He  was  not  a  coward; 
he  had  faced  without  a  quiver  many  dangers  in 
his  time  ;  more  than  once  he  had  cut  his  air- 
hose,  the  last  desperate  chance  of  a  diver  when 
his  lines  are  fouled.  But  his  legs  had  shaken 
as  he  listened  to  Captain  Joe.  There  was 
something  in  the  tone  of  his  voice  that  had 
unmanned  him. 

For  a  mile  or  more  the  two  men  did  not 
speak  again.     Wave  after  wave  pursued  them, 


WHAT   THE   BUTCHER   SAW  159 

and  tossed  its  angry  spray  after  them.  Captain 
Joe  now  managed  the  sail  with  one  hand, 
and  steered  with  the  other.  Caleb  bailed  in- 
cessantly. 

When  they  ran  under  the  lee  of  the  light- 
house the  keeper  hailed  them.  He  had  recog- 
nized Captain  Joe.  Indeed,  he  had  followed 
the  sharpie  with  his  glass  until  it  reached  the 
Ledge,  and  had  watched  its  return  "  with  two 
fools  instead  of  one,"  he  said. 

"  Anybody  sick  ?  "  he  shouted. 

Captain  Joe  shook  his  head,  and  the  sharpie 
plunged  on  and  rounded  the  point  into  the  per- 
fect calm  of  the  protecting  shore. 

Caleb  made  fast  the  boat  when  land  was 
reached,  while  the  captain  sprang  out.  Then 
they  both  hurried  up  Caleb's  garden  walk  to 
the  cabin  door. 

There  was  no  change  in  the  house.  The 
white  china  bowl  still  lay  over  the  supper,  the 
newspaper  on  the  floor ;  no  one  had  entered 
since  Caleb  had  left. 

The  captain  began  a  close  search  through 
the  rooms :  inside  the  clock,  all  over  the 
mantelpiece,  and  on  the  sitting-room  table. 
No  scrap  of  writing  could  he  find  that  shed  a 
ray  of  light  on  Betty's  movements.  Then  he 
walked  upstairs,  Caleb  following  him,  and 
opened  the  bedroom  closet  door.  Her  dresses 
hung  in  their  usual  places,  —  all  but  the  one 
she  wore  and  her  cloak,  Caleb  said. 


160        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

"  She  ain't  gone  for  long,"  said  the  captain 
thoughtfully,  looking  into  the  closet.  "  You 
wait  here,  Caleb,  and  git  yerself  some  breakfast. 
I  may  be  gone  two  hours,  I  may  be  gone  all 
day.  When  I  find  out  for  sure  I  '11  come  back. 
I  'm  goin'  to  Noank  fust,  to  see  them  hands 
aboard  the  boat.  It  's  Sunday,  an'  she  ain't 
a-runnin'." 

Caleb  waited  by  the  fireless  stove.  Hour 
after  hour  went  by.  Now  and  then  he  would 
open  the  front  door  and  peer  down  the  road, 
trying  to  make  out  the  captain's  burly,  hurry- 
ing form.  When  it  grew  dark  he  put  a  light 
in  the  window,  and  raised  one  shade  on  the 
kitchen  side  of  the  house,  that  the  captain 
might  know  he  was  still  at  home  and  waiting. 

About  nine  o'clock  Caleb  heard  the  whistle 
of  a  tug  and  a  voice  calling  for  some  one  to 
catch  a  line.  He  opened  the  kitchen  door  and 
looked  out  on  the  wet  gloom,  that  was  broken 
here  and  there  by  the  masthead  lights  rocking 
in  the  wind.  Then  he  recognized  one  of  the 
big  Medford  tugs  lying  off  the  dock  below  his 
garden  ;  the  hands  were  making  fast  to  a  dock 
spile.  Captain  Joe  sprang  ashore,  and  the  tug 
steamed  off. 

The  captain  walked  slowly  towards  the  porch, 
entered  the  kitchen  without  a  word,  and  sank 
heavily  into  a  chair.  Caleb  made  no  sound ;  he 
stood  beside  him,  waiting,  one  hand  grasping 
the  table. 


WHAT   THE   BUTCHER   SAW  161 

"  She  's  gone,  ain't  she  ?  " 

The  captain  nodded  his  head. 

"  Gone  !  Who  with  ?  "  asked  Caleb,  uncon- 
sciously repeating  the  words  that  had  rung  all 
day  in  his  ears. 

"Bill  Lacey,"  said  the  captain,  with  choking 
voice. 


CHAPTER  X 


Mrs.  Leroy  was  one  of  the  few  women  in 
town  who  realized  what  Sanford  and  his  friends 
had  long  ago  discovered,  —  the  possibilities  of 
New  York  in  summer.  To  her  it  had  now 
become  its  most  delightful  season,  a  season 
of  long  days  and  short  nights  —  days  and  nights 
of  utter  idleness,  great  content,  and  blessed 
peace  of  mind ;  a  season  when  one  could  dine 
where  one  chose  without  a  waiting  cab  and 
a  hurried  departure  at  the  bidding  of  some- 
body else  ;  when  the  eleven  o'clock  lecturer  is 
silent,  the  afternoon  tea  a  memory,  and  the 
epidemic  of  the  ten-course  dinner  a  forgotten 
plague. 

She  had  grown  to  believe  with  Sanford  that 
if  one  could  impress  the  possibility  of  these 
truths  upon  the  friends  one  loved,  so  that  they, 
and  only  they,  could  tiptoe  back  into  their 
houses,  keep  their  blinds  closed  and  their  ser- 
vants hidden,  and  so  delude  the  balance  of  the 
world  —  those  they  did  not  love,  the  uncongenial, 
the  tiresome,  the  bumptious,  and  the  aggres- 
sive —  into  believing  that  they  had  fled  ;  if  this 


STRAINS    FROM    BOCK'S    'CELLO        163 

little  trick  could  be  played  on  the  world  every 
June,  and  for  three  long  happy  months  only 
congenial  spirits  could  spread  themselves  over 
space  and  eat  their  lotus  in  peace  (and  with 
their  ringers,  if  they  so  pleased),  then  would 
each  one  discover  that  New  York  in  summer 
could  indeed  be  made  the  Eldorado  of  one's 
dreams. 

Her  own  front  door  on  Gramercy  Park  was 
never  barricaded,  nor  was  her  house  dismantled. 
She  changed  its  dress  in  May  and  put  it  into 
charming  summer  attire  of  matting  and  chintz, 
making  it  a  rare  and  refreshing  retreat ;  and 
more  than  half  her  time  she  spent  within  its 
walls,  running  down  to  Medford  whenever  the 
cares  of  that  establishment  required  attention, 
or  a  change  of  mood  made  a  change  of  scene 
desirable. 

Since  the  visit  when  Captain  Joe  had  dis- 
missed her  with  his  thanks  from  the  warehouse 
hospital  at  Keyport  she  had  gone  to  Medford 
but  once. 

The  major  had  been  a  constant  visitor,  and 
Jack  Hardy  and  his  fiancee,  Helen  Shirley,  had 
on  more  than  one  occasion  hidden  themselves, 
on  moonlight  nights,  in  the  shadows  of  the  big 
palms  fringing  her  balcony  overlooking  the 
Park.  Sanford  had  not  seen  her  as  often  as  he 
wished.  Work  on  the  Ledge  had  kept  him  at 
Keyport,  and  allowed  him  but  little  time  in 
town. 


164        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER    DIVER 

With  the  setting  of  the  derricks,  however, 
he  felt  himself  at  liberty  for  a  holiday,  and  he 
had  looked  forward  with  a  feeling  of  almost 
boyish  enthusiasm  —  which  he  never  quite  out- 
grew—  to  a  few  days'  leisure  in  town,  and  a 
morning  or  two  with  Mrs.  Leroy. 

When  the  maid  brought  up  his  card,  Mrs. 
Leroy  was  at  her  desk  in  the  little  boudoir, 
with  its  heaps  of  silk  cushions,  its  disorder  of 
books,  and  bloom  of  mignonette  and  red  gera- 
niums filling  the  windows  that  looked  straight 
into  the  trees  of  the  Park.  Here  the  sun 
shone  in  winter,  and  here  the  moonlight  traced 
the  outlines  of  bare  branches  upon  her  window- 
shades,  and  here  in  summer  the  coolest  of  cool 
shadows  fell  from  tree  and  awning. 

"Why,  I  expected  you  yesterday,  Henry," 
she  said,  holding  out  her  hand,  seating  Sanford 
upon  the  divan,  and  drawing  up  a  chair  beside 
him.     "  What  happened  ? " 

"Nothing  more  serious  than  an  elopement." 

"  Not  Jack  and  Helen  Shirley  ?  "  she  said, 
laughing. 

"  No ;  I  wish  it  were ;  they  would  go  on 
loving  each  other.  This  affair  brings  misery. 
It's  Caleb  West's  wife.  Captain  Joe  is  half 
crazy  about  it,  and  poor  Caleb  is  heartbroken. 
She  has  gone  off  with  that  young  fellow  she 
was  nursing  the  day  you  came  up  with  the 
major." 

"  Eloped  !     Pretty  doings,  I  must  say.     Yes, 


STRAINS    FROM    BOCK'S    'CELLO        165 

I  remember  her,  —  a  trim,  rather  pretty  little 
woman  with  short  curly  hair.  I  caught  a 
glimpse  of  Caleb,  too,  you  know,  as  he  came  in 
from  the  Ledge.  He  seemed  years  older  than 
she.     What  had  he  done  to  her  ?  " 

"  Nothing,  so  far  as  I  know,  except  love  her 
and  take  care  of  her.     Poor  Caleb  !  " 

"What  did  he  let  her  go  for,  then?  I'm 
sorry  for  the  old  diver,  but  it  was  his  fault, 
somewhere.  The  girl  had  as  good  a  face  as  I 
ever  looked  into.  She  never  left  her  husband 
without  some  cause,  poor  child.  What  else 
has  happened  at  Keyport  ?  " 

"  Kate,  don't  talk  so.  She  's  treated  him 
shamefully.  They  have  only  been  married  two 
years." 

Mrs.  Leroy  bent  her  head  and  looked  out 
under  the  awnings  for  a  moment  in  a  thought- 
ful way.  "  Only  two  years  ?  "  she  said,  with 
some  bitterness.  "The  poor  child  was  impa- 
tient. When  she  had  tried  it  for  fifteen  she 
would  have  become  accustomed  to  it.  It  is  the 
same  old  story,  I  suppose.  We  hear  it  every 
day.  He  ugly  and  old  and  selfish,  never  think- 
ing of  what  she  would  like  and  what  she  longed 
for,  keeping  her  shut  up  to  sing  for  him  when 
she  wanted  now  and  then  to  sing  for  herself ; 
and  then  she  found  the  door  of  the  cage  open, 
and  out  she  flew.  Poor  little  soul !  I  pity 
her.  She  had  better  have  borne  it ;  it  is  a 
poor  place  outside  for  a  tired  foot ;  and  she 's 


166        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

nothing  but  a  child."  Then  musing,  patting 
her  slipper  impatiently,  "What  sort  of  a  man 
has  she  gone  with  ?  I  could  n't  see  him  that 
morning,  she  hung  over  him  so  close,  and  his 
head  was  so  bandaged." 

"  I  don't  know  much  about  him.  I  have  n't 
known  him  long,"  Sanford  answered  carelessly. 

"  Good-looking,  is  n't  he,  and  alive,  and  with 
something  human  and  manlike  about  him?" 
she  asked,  leaning  forward  eagerly,  her  hands 
in  her  lap. 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  so.  He  could  climb  like  a 
cat,  anyway,"  said  Sanford. 

"  Yes,  I  know,  Henry.  I  see  it  all.  I  knew 
it  was  the  same  old  story.  She  wanted  some- 
thing fresh  and  young,  —  some  one  just  to  play 
with,  child  as  she  is,  some  one  nearer  her  own 
age  to  love.  She  was  lonely.  Nothing  for  her  * 
to  do  but  sit  down  and  wait  for  him  to  come 
home.  Poor  child,"  with  a  sigh,  "her  misery 
only  begins  now.  What  else  have  you  to  tell 
me?" 

"  Nothing,  except  that  all  of  the  derricks 
tumbled.  I  wired  you  about  it.  They  are  all 
up  now,  thank  goodness."  He  knew  her  inter- 
est was  only  perfunctory.  Her  mind,  evidently, 
was  still  on  Betty,  but  he  went  on  with  his 
story :  "  Everybody  got  soaking  wet.  Captain 
Joe  was  in  the  water  for  hours.  But  we  stuck 
to  it.  Narrowest  escape  the  men  have  had  this 
summer,  Kate,  since  the  Screamer's.     It 's  a 


STRAINS   FROM   BOCK'S   'CELLO       167 

great  mercy  nobody  was  hurt.  I  expected  every 
minute  some  one  would  get  crushed.  No  one 
but  Captain  Joe  could  have  got  them  up  that 
afternoon.  It  blew  a  gale  for  three  days. 
When  did  you  get  here  ?  I  thought  you  had 
gone  back  to  Medford  until  Sam  brought  me 
your  note." 

"  No,  I  am  still  here,  and  shall  be  here  for  a 
week.  Now,  don't  tell  me  you  're  going  back 
to-night  ? " 

"  No,  I  'm  not,  but  I  can't  say  how  soon  ;  not 
before  the  masonry  begins,  anyhow.  Jack 
Hardy  is  coming  to-morrow  night  to  my  rooms. 
I  have  asked  a  few  fellows  to  meet  him,  — 
Sm  early  and  Cur  ran,  and  old  Bock  with  his 
'cello,  and  some  others.  Since  Jack's  engage- 
ment he's  the  happiest  fellow  alive." 

"They  all  are  at  first,  Henry,"  said  Mrs. 
Leroy,  laughing,  her  head  thrown  back.  The 
memory  of  Jack  and  Helen  was  still  so  fresh 
and  happy  a  one  that  it  instantly  changed  her 
mood. 

Betty  and  Caleb  for  the  moment  were  for- 
gotten, while  they  talked  of  Helen's  future, 
of  the  change  in  Jack's  life,  of  his  new  house- 
keeping, and  of  the  thousand  and  one  things 
that  interested  them  both,  —  the  kind  of  talk 
that  two  such  friends  indulge  in  who  have  been 
parted  for  a  week  or  more,  and  who,  in  the 
first  ten  minutes,  run  lightly  over  their  individ- 
ual experiences,  so  that  both  may  start  fresh 


168        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

again  with  nothing  hidden  in  either  life.  When 
he  rose  to  go,  she  kept  him  standing  while  she 
pinned  in  his  buttonhole  a  sprig  of  mignonette 
picked  from  her  window-box,  and  said,  with  the 
deepest  interest,  "I  can't  get  that  poor  child 
out  of  my  mind.  Don't  be  too  hard  on  her, 
Henry  ;  she 's  the  one  who  will  suffer  most." 

When  Sanford  reached  his  rooms  again  he 
sank  into  a  chair  which  Sam  had  drawn  close 
to  the  window,  and  sighed  with  content.  "  Oh, 
these  days  off !  "  he  exclaimed. 

The  appointments  of  his  own  apartments 
seemed  never  so  satisfying  and  so  welcome  as 
when  he  had  spent  a  week  with  his  men,  taking 
his  share  of  the  exposure  with  all  the  discom- 
forts that  it  brought.  His  early  life  had  fitted 
him  for  these  changes,  and  a  certain  cosmo- 
politan spirit  in  the  man,  a  sort  of  underlying 
stratum  of  Bohemianism,  had  made  it  easy  for 
him  to  adapt  himself  to  his  surroundings,  what- 
ever they  might  be.  Not  that  his  restless  spirit 
could  long  have  endured  any  life,  either  rough 
or  luxurious,  that  repeated  itself  day  after  day. 
He  could  idle  with  the  idlest,  but  he  must  also 
work  when  the  necessity  came,  and  that  with 
all  his  might. 

Sam  always  made  some  special  preparation 
for  his  home-coming.  To-day  the  awnings  were 
hung  over  window  and  balcony,  and  the  most 
delightful  of  luncheons  had  been  arranged,  — 
cucumbers  smothered  in  ice,  soft-shell  crabs, 


STRAINS    FROM    BOCK'S    'CELLO       169 

and  a  roll  of  cream  cheese  with  a  dash  of  Kirsch 
and  sugar.  "I  know  he  don't  git  nuffin  fit 
for  a  dog  to  eat  when  he 's  away.  'Fo'  God  I 
don't  know  how  he  stands  it,"  Sam  was  accus- 
tomed to  observe  to  those  of  his  friends  who 
sometimes  watched  his  preparations. 

"  Major 's  done  been  hyar  'mos'  ebery  day 
you  been  gone,  sah,"  he  said,  drawing  out  San- 
ford's  chair,  when  luncheon  was  served.  "  How 
is  it,  sah,  —  am  I  to  mix  a  cocktail  ebery  time 
he  comes  ?  An'  dat  box  ob  yo'  big  cigars  am 
putty  nigh  gone  ;  ain't  no  more  'n  fo'r  'r  five  of 
'em  lef."  The  major,  Sam  forgot  to  mention, 
was  only  partly  to  blame  for  these  two  shrink- 
ages in  Sanford's  stores. 

"  What  does '  he  come  so  often  for,  Sam  ? " 
asked  Sanford,  laughing. 

"Dat's  mor'  'an  I  know,  sah,  'cept  he  so 
anxious  to  git  you  back,  he  says.  He  come 
twice  a  day  to  see  if  you  're  yere.  Co'se  dere 
ain't  nuffin  cooked,  an'  so  he  don't  git  nuffin 
to  eat,  but  golly!  he's  powerful  on  jewlips.  I 
done  tole  him  yesterday  you  would  n't  be  back 
till  to-morrow  night.  Dat  whiskey's  all  gin 
out ;  he  saw  der  empty  bottle  hisse'f ;  he  ain't 
been  yere  agin  to-day,"  with  a  chuckle. 

"Always  give  the  major  whatever  he  wants," 
said  Sanford.  "And  Sam,"  he  called  as  that 
darky  was  disappearing  in  the  pantry,  "  a  few 
gentlemen  will  be  here  to  supper  to-morrow 
night.  Remind  me  to  make  a  list  in  the  morn- 
ing of  what  you  will  want." 


170        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

The  list  was  made  out,  and  a  very  toothsome 
and  cooling  list  it  was,  —  a  frozen  melon  tapped 
and  filled  with  a  pint  of  Pommery  sec,  by  way 
of  beginning.  All  the  trays  and  small  tables 
with  their  pipes  and  smokables  were  brought 
out,  a  music-stand  was  opened  and  set  up  near 
a  convenient  shaded  candle,  and  the  lid  of  the 
piano  was  lifted  and  propped  up  rabbit-trap 
fashion. 

Just  as  the  moon  was  rising,  silvering  the 
tops  of  the  trees  in  the  square  below,  Smearly 
in  white  flannels  and  flaming  tie  arrived  fresh 
from  his  studio,  where  he  had  been  at  work  on 
a  ceiling  for  some  millionaire's  salon.  Jack  fol- 
lowed in  correct  evening  dress,  and  Curran  from 
his  office,  in  a  business  suit.  The  major  was 
arrayed  in  a  nondescript  combination  of  yellow 
nankeen  and  black  bombazine,  that  would  have 
made  him  an  admirable  model  for  a  poster  in 
two  tints.  He  was  still  full  of  his  experiences 
at  the  warehouse  hospital  after  the  accident  to 
the  Screamer.  His  little  trip  to  Keyport  as 
acting  escort  to  Mrs.  Leroy  had  not  only  opened 
his  eyes  to  a  class  of  workingmen  of  whose 
existence  he  had  never  dreamed,  but  it  had  also 
furnished  him  with  a  new  and  inexhaustible 
topic  of  conversation.  Every  visitor  at  his 
downtown  office  had  listened  to  his  recital  by 
the  hour.  To-night,  however,  the  major  had  a 
new  audience,  and  a  new  audience  always  added 
fuel  to  the  fire  of  his  eloquence. 


STRAINS   FROM    BOCK'S    'CELLO        171 

When  the  subject  of  the  work  at  the  Ledge 
came  up,  and  the  sympathy  of  everybody  was 
expressed  to  Sanford  over  the  calamity  to  the 
Screamer,  —  they  had  not  seen  him  since  the 
explosion,  —  the  major  broke  out :  — ■ 

"  You  ought  to  have  gone  with  us,  my  dear 
Smearly."  (To  have  been  the  only  eye-witness 
at  the  front,  except  Sanford  himself,  gave  the 
major  great  scope.)  "  Giants,  suh,  —  every  man 
of  'em ;  a  race,  suh,  that  would  do  credit  to  the 
Vikings  ;  bifurcated  walruses,  suh  ;  amphibious 
titans,  that  can  work  as  well  in  water  as  out 
of  it.  No  wonder  our  dear  Henry  "  (this  term 
of  affection  was  not  unusual  with  the  major) 
"accomplishes  such  wonders.  I  can  readily 
understand  why  you  never  see  such  fellows 
anywhere  else ;  they  dive  under  water  when 
the  season  closes,"  he  continued,  laughing,  and, 
leaning  over  Curran's  shoulder,  helped  himself 
to  one  of  the  cigars  Sam  was  just  bringing  in. 

"And  the  major  outdid  himself,  that  day, 
in  nursing  them,"  interrupted  Sanford.  "You 
would  have  been  surprised,  Jack,  to  see  him 
take  hold.  When  I  turned  in  for  the  night  on 
a  cot,  he  was  giving  one  of  the  derrickmen  a 
sponge  bath." 

"  Learned  it  in  the  army,"  said  Curran,  with 
a  sly  look  at  Smearly.  Both  of  them  knew  the 
origin  of  the  major's  military  title. 

The  major's  chin  was  upturned  in  the  air; 
his  head  was  wreathed  in  smoke,  the  match, 


172        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

still  aflame,  held  aloft  with  outstretched  hand. 
He  always  lighted  his  cigars  in  this  lordly  way. 

"  Many  years  ago,  gentlemen,"  the  major  re- 
plied, distending  his  chest,  throwing  away  the 
match,  and  accepting  the  compliment  in  perfect 
good  faith  ;  "  but  these  are  things  one  never 
forgets."  The  major  had  never  seen  the  inside 
of  a  camp  hospital  in  his  life. 

The  guests  now  distributed  themselves,  each 
after  the  manner  of  his  likes :  Curran  full  length 
on  a  divan,  the  afternoon  paper  in  his  hand ; 
Jack  on  the  floor,  his  back  to  the  wall,  a  cushion 
behind  his  head  ;  Smearly  in  an  armchair ;  and 
the  major  bolt  upright  on  a  camp-stool  near  a 
table  which  held  a  select  collection  of  drink- 
ables, presided  over  by  a  bottle  of  seltzer  in  a 
silver  holder.  Sam  moved  about  like  a  restless 
shadow,  obedient  to  the  slightest  lifting  of  San- 
ford's  eyebrow,  when  a  glass  needed  filling  or  a 
pipe  replenishing. 

At  ten  o'clock,  lugging  in  his  great  'cello, 
Bock  came,  —  short,  round,  and  oily,  with  a 
red  face  that  beamed  with  good  humor,  and 
fat  puffy  hands  that  wrinkled  in  pleats  when 
he  held  his  bow.  Across  a  perpetually  moist 
forehead  was  pasted  a  lock  of  black  hair.  He 
wore  a  threadbare  coat  spattered  with  spots, 
baggy  black  trousers,  and  a  four-button  brown 
holland  waistcoat,  never  clean,  —  sometimes 
connected  with  a  collar  so  much  ashamed  of 
the  condition  of  its  companion  shirt-front  that 


STRAINS    FROM   BOCK'S    'CELLO       173 

it  barely  showed  its  face  over  a  black  stock 
that  was  held  together  by  a  spring.  A  man 
who  was  kindly  and  loyal ;  who  loved  all  his 
kind,  spoke  six  languages,  wrote  for  the  Ency- 
clopaedia, and  made  a  'cello  sing  like  an  angel. 

Despite  his  frouziness,  everybody  who  knew 
Bock  liked  him  ;  those  who  heard  him  play 
loved  him.  There  was  a  pathos,  a  tender,  sym- 
pathetic quality  in  his  touch,  that  one  never 
forgot :  it  always  seemed  as  if,  somehow,  ready 
tears  lingered  under  his  bow.  "With  a  tone 
like  Bock's"  was  the  highest  compliment  one 
could  pay  a  musician.  To  Sanford  this  man's 
heart  was  dearer  than  his  genius. 

"Why,  Bock,  old  man,"  he  called,  "we  didn't 
expect  you  till  eleven." 

"Yes,  I  know,  Henri,  but  ze  first  wiolin,  he 
take  my  place.  Zey  will  not  know  ze  differ- 
ence." One  fat  hand  was  held  up  deprecat- 
ingly,  the  fingers  outspread.  "  Everybody  fan 
and  drink  ze  beer.  Ah,  Meester  Hardy,  I  have 
hear  ze  news  ;  so  you  will  leave  ze  brotherhood. 
And  I  hear,"  lowering  his  voice  and  laying  his 
other  fat  hand  affectionately  on  Jack's,  "zat 
she  ees  most  lofely.  Ah,  it  ees  ze  best  zing," 
his  voice  rising  again.  "  When  ve  get  old  and 
ugly  like  old  Bock,  and  so  heels  over  head  wiz 
all  sorts  of  big  zings  to  build  like  Mr.  Sanford, 
or  like  poor  Smearly  paint,  paint,  all  ze  time 
paint,  it  ees  too  late  to  zink  of  ze  settle  down. 
Ees  it  not  so,  you  man  Curran  over  zere,  wiz 


174        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

your  newspaper  over  your  head  ? "  This  time 
his  voice  was  flung  straight  at  the  recumbent 
editor  as  a  climax  to  his  breezy  salutation. 

"  Yes,  you  're  right,  Bock ;  you  're  ugly  enough 
to  crowd  a  dime  museum,  but  I  '11  forgive  you 
everything  if  you  '11  put  some  life  into  your 
strings.  I  heard  your  orchestra  the  other  night, 
and  the  first  and  second  violins  ruined  the  over- 
ture.    What  the  devil  do  you  keep  a  lot  of  "  — 

"What  ees  ze  matter  wiz  ze  overture,  Mees- 
ter  Ole  Bull  ?  "  said  Bock,  pitching  his  voice  in 
a  high  key,  squeezing  down  on  the  divan  and 
pinching  Curran's  arm  with  his  fat  fingers. 

"Everything  was  the  matter.  The  brass 
drowned  the  strings,  and  Reynier  might  have 
had  hair-oil  on  his  bow  for  all  the  sound  you 
heard.     Then  the  tempo  was  a  beat  too  slow." 

"  Henri  Sanford,  do  you  hear  zis  crazy  man 
zat  does  not  know  one  zing,  and  lie  fiat  on 
his  back  and  talk  such  nonsense  ?  Ze  wiolin, 
Meester  Musical  Editor  Curran,  must  be  pianis- 
simo, —  only  ze  leetle,  ze  ve'y  leetle,  you  hear. 
Ze  aria  is  carried  by  ze  reeds." 

"  Carried  by  your  grandmother  !  "  said  Cur- 
ran, springing  from  the  divan.  "  Here,  Sam, 
put  a  light  on  the  piano.  Now  listen,  you 
pagan.  Beethoven  would  get  out  of  his  grave 
if  he  could  hear  you  murder  his  music.  The 
three  bars  are  so,"  —  touching  the  keys,  "not 
so !  "     And  thus  the  argument  went  on. 

Out  on  the  balcony,  Smearly  and  Quigley, 


STRAINS   FROM   BOCK'S   'CELLO       175 

the  marine  painter,  who  had  just  come  in,  were 
talking  about  the  row  at  the  Academy  over  the 
rejection  of  Morley's  picture,  while  the  major 
was  in  full  swing  with  Hardy,  Sanford,  and 
some  of  the  later  arrivals,  including  old  Profes- 
sor Max  Shutters,  the  biologist,  who  had  been 
so  impressively  introduced  by  Curran  to  the  dis- 
tinguished Pocomokian  that  the  professor  had 
at  once  mistaken  the  major  for  a  brother  sci- 
entist. 

"And  you  say,  Professor  Slocomb,"  said  the 
savant,  his  hand  forming  a  sounding-board  be- 
hind his  ear,  "that  the  terrapin,  now  practically 
extinct,  was  really  plentiful  in  your  day  ? " 

"  My  learned  suh,  I  have  gone  down  to  the 
edge  of  my  lawn,  overlooking  the  salt-marsh, 
and  seen  'em  crawling  around  like  potato  bugs. 
The  niggahs  could  n't  walk  the  shore  at  night 
without  trampling  on  'em.  This  craze  of  yo'r 
millionaire  epicures  for  one  of  the  commonest 
shell-fish  we  have  is"  — 

"  Amphibia,"  suggested  the  professor,  as  if  he 
had  recognized  a  mere  slip  of  the  tongue.  "  I 
presume  you  are  referring  to  the  Malaclem- 
mys  palustris,  — the  diamond-back  species." 

"You  are  right,  suh,"  said  the  major.  "I 
had  forgotten  the  classification  for  the  mo- 
ment," with  an  air  of  being  perfectly  at  home 
on  the  subject.  "  The  craze  for  the  palustris, 
my  dear  suh,  is  one  of  the  unaccountable  signs 
of  the  times ;  it  is  the  beginning  of  the  fall  of 


176        CALEB  WEST,   MASTER  DIVER 

our  institutions,  suh.  We  cannot  forget  the 
dishes  of  peacock  tongues  in  the  old  Roman 
days, — a  thousand  peacocks  at  a  cou'se,  suh." 

The  major  would  have  continued  down 
through  Gibbon  and  Macaulay  if  Curran  had 
not  shouted  out,  "  Keep  still,  every  soul  of  you  ! 
Bock  is  going  to  give  us  the  Serenade." 

The  men  crowded  about  the  piano.  Smearly 
stood  ready  to  turn  the  leaves  of  the  music  for 
Curran,  and  Jack  drew  a  chair  closer  to  the 
'cellist. 

Bock  uncovered  the  'cello  and  held  it  be- 
tween his  knees,  his  fat  hand  resting  lightly 
on  the  strings.  As  Curran,  with  his  foot  on 
the  pedal  of  the  piano,  passed  his  hand  rapidly 
over  the  keys,  Bock's  head  sank  to  the  level 
of  his  shoulders,  his  straggling  hair  fell  over  his 
coat  collar,  his  raised  fingers  balanced  for  a 
moment  the  short  bow,  and  then  Schubert's 
masterpiece  poured  out  the  very  fullness  of  its 
heart. 

A  profound  hush,  broken  only  by  the  music, 
fell  on  the  room.  The  old  professor  leaned  for- 
ward, both  hands  cupped  behind  his  ears.  San- 
ford  and  Jack  smoked  on,  their  eyes  half  closed, 
and  even  the  major  withheld  his  hand  from  the 
well-appointed  tray  and  looked  into  his  empty 
glass. 

At  a  time  when  the  spell  was  deepest  and 
the  listeners  held  their  breath,  the  perfect  har- 
mony was  broken  by  a  discordant  ring  at  the 


STRAINS    FROM    BOCK'S    'CELLO        177 

outer  door.  Curran  turned  his  head  angrily, 
and  Sanford  looked  at  Sam,  who  glided  to  the 
door  with  a  catlike  tread,  opening  it  without  a 
sound,  and  closing  it  gently  behind  him.  The 
symphony  continued,  the  music  rising  in  in- 
terest, and  the  listeners  forgot  the  threatened 
interruption. 

Then  the  door  opened  again,  and  Sam,  mak- 
ing a  wide  detour,  bent  over  Sanford  and  whis- 
pered in  his  ear.  A  woman  wanted  to  see  him 
in  the  hall.  Sanford  started,  as  if  annoyed, 
arose  from  his  seat,  and  again  the  knob  was 
noiselessly  turned  and  the  door  as  noiselessly 
closed,  shutting  Sanford  into  the  corridor. 

"  Do  you  wish  to  see  me,  madam  ? "  he  asked, 
crossing  to  a  chair  in  which  the  woman  sat 
wrapped  in  a  long  cloak,  her  face  buried  in  her 
hands. 

The  woman  turned  her  head  towards  him 
without  raising  her  eyelids. 

"And  you  don't  know  me  any  more,  Mr. 
Sanford?" 

"  Betty  !  You  here  ! "  said  Sanford,  looking 
in  astonishment  at  the  crouching  figure  before 
him. 

"I  had  to  come,  sir.  The  druggist  at  the 
corner  showed  me  the  house.  I  was  a-waitin' 
outside  in  the  street  below,  hopin'  to  see  you 
come  in.  Then  I  heard  the  music  and  knew 
you  were  home."  The  voice  shook  with  every 
word.     The  young  dimpled  face  was  drawn  and 


178        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

pale,  the  pretty  curly  hair  in  disorder  about  her 
forehead.  She  had  the  air  of  one  who  had 
been  hunted  and  had  just  found  shelter. 

"Does  Lacey  know  you  are  here?"  asked 
Sanford,  a  dim  suspicion  rising  in  his  mind. 

Betty  shivered  slightly,  as  if  the  name  had 
hurt  her.  "  No,  sir.  I  left  him  two  nights  ago. 
I  got  away  while  he  was  asleep.  All  .1  want 
now  is  a  place  for  to-night,  and  then  perhaps 
to-morrow  I  can  get  work." 

"And  you  have  no  money?"  asked  Sanford. 

Betty  shook  her  head.  "  I  had  a  little  of  my 
own,  but  it 's  all  gone,  and  I  'm  so  tired,  and  — 
the  city  frightens  me  so  —  when  the  night 
comes."  The  head  dropped  lower,  the  sobs 
choking  her.  After  a  little  she  went  on,  dry- 
ing her  eyes  with  her  handkerchief,  rolled  tight 
in  one  hand ;  and  resting  her  cheek  on  the  bent 
fingers,  "I  didn't  know  nobody  but  you,  Mr. 
Sanford.  I  can  pay  it  back."  The  voice  was 
scarcely  audible. 

Sanford  stood  looking  down  upon  her  bowed 
head.  The  tired  eyelids  were  half  closed,  the 
tears  glistening  in  the  light  of  the  overhanging 
lamp,  the  shadows  of  her  black  curls  flecking 
her  face.  The  cloak  hung  loosely  about  her, 
the  curve  of  her  pretty  shoulders  outlined  in 
its  folds.  Then  she  lifted  her  head,  and,  look- 
ing Sanford  in  the  eyes  for  the  first  time,  said 
in  a  broken,  halting  voice,  "  Did  you  —  did  you 
—  see  —  Caleb  —  Mr.  Sanford  ?  " 


STRAINS    FROM    BOCK'S    'CELLO        179 

Sanford  nodded  slowly  in  answer.  He  was 
trying  to  make  up  his  mind  what  he  should  do 
with  a  woman  who  had  broken  the  heart  of  a 
man  like  Caleb.  Through  the  closed  door  he 
heard  the  strains  of  Bock's  'cello,  the  notes 
vibrating  plaintively.  They  belonged  to  some 
other  world. 

"  Betty,"  he  said,  leaning  over  her,  "  how 
could  you  do  it  ?  " 

The  girl  covered  her  face  with  her  hands 
and  shrank  within  her  cloak.  Sanford  went  on, 
his  sense  of  Caleb's  wrongs  overpowering  him  : 
"  What  could  Lacey  do  for  you  ?  If  you  could 
once  see  Caleb's  face  you  would  never  forgive 
yourself.  No  woman  has  a  right  to  leave  a  man 
who  was  as  good  to  her  as  your  husband  was 
to  you.  And  now  what  has  it  all  come  to  ? 
You  've  ruined  yourself,  and  broken  his  heart." 

The  girl  trembled  and  bent  her  head,  cower- 
ing under  the  pitiless  words;  then,  in  a  half- 
dazed  way,  she  rose  from  her  seat,  and,  without 
looking  at  Sanford,  said  in  a  tired,  hopeless 
voice,  as  if  every  word  brought  a  pain,  "  I  think 
I  '11  go,  Mr.  Sanford." 

Sanford  watched  her  silently  as  she  drew  her 
cloak  about  her  and  turned  to  the  door.  The 
pathos  of  the  shrinking  girlish  figure  overcame 
him.  He  began  to  wonder  if  there  were  some- 
thing under  it  all  that  even  Captain  Joe  did  not 
know  of.  Then  he  remembered  the  tones  of 
compassion   in   Mrs.   Leroy's  voice  when  her 


180        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

heart  had  gone  out  to  this  girl  the  morning 
before,  as  she  said,  "  Poor  child,  her  misery  only 
begins  now ;  it  is  a  poor  place  for  a  tired  foot." 

For  an  instant  he  stood  irresolute.  "  Wait," 
he  said.     "Wait  a  moment." 

Betty  stood  still,  without  raising  her  head. 

Sanford  paused  in  deep  thought,  with  averted 
eyes. 

"  Betty,"  he  murmured  at  last  in  a  softened 
voice,  "you  can't  go  out  like  this  alone.  I'll 
take  you,  child,  where  you  will  be  safe  for  the 
night." 


CHAPTER  XI 

CAPTAIN   JOE'S    TELEGRAM 

The  morning  after  Betty's  visit  to  Sanford's 
apartments,  Captain  Joe  was  seen  hurrying  up 
the  shore  road  at  Keyport  toward  his  cottage. 
His  eyes  shone  with  excitement,  and  his  breath 
came  in  short,  quick  puffs.  He  wore  his  rough 
working-clothes,  and  held  a  yellow  envelope  in 
his  hand.  When  he  reached  the  garden  gate 
he  swung  it  open  with  so  mighty  a  jerk  that 
the  sound  of  the  dangling  ball  and  chain  thump- 
ing against  the  palings  brought  Aunty  Bell 
running  to  the  porch. 

"  Sakes  alive,  Cap'n  Joe  !  "  she  exclaimed, 
following  him  into  the  kitchen,  "  whatever  's 
the  matter  ?     Ain't  nobody  hurted,  is  there  ?  " 

"  There  will  be  ef  I  don't  git  to  New  York 
purty  quick.  Mr.  Sanford  's  got  Betty,  an' 
them  Leroy  folks  is  a-keepin'  on  her  till  I  git 
there." 

Aunty  Bell  sank  into  a  chair,  her  hands 
twisted  in  her  apron,  the  tears  starting  in  her 
eyes. 

"  Who  says  so  ? " 

"  Telegram  —  come  in  the  night,"    he   an- 


182        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

swered,  almost  breathless,  throwing  the  yellow- 
envelope  into  her  lap.  "  Git  me  a  clean  shirt 
quick  as  God  '11  let  ye.  I  ain't  got  but  ten 
minutes  to  catch  that  eight-ten  train." 

"  But  ye  ain't  a-goin'  till  ye  see  Caleb,  be 
ye  ?     He  won't  like  it,  maybe,  if  "  — 

"  Don't  ye  stop  there  talkin',  Aunty  Bell. 
Do  as  I  tell  ye,"  he  said,  stripping  off  his  sus- 
penders and  tugging  at  his  blue  flannel  shirt. 
"  I  ain't  a-goin'  to  stop  for  nobody  nor  nothin'. 
That  little  gal 's  fetched  up  hard  jes'  where  I 
knowed  she  would,  an'  I  won't  have  a  minute's 
peace  till  I  git  my  hands  onto  her.  I  ain't 
slep'  a  night  since  she  left,  an'  you  know  it." 

"  How  do  ye  know  she  '11  come  with  ye  ?  " 
asked  Aunty  Bell,  as  she  gave  him  his  shirt. 
Her  hands  were  trembling. 

"  I  ain't  a-worritin',"  he  answered,  thrusting 
his  head  and  big  chest  into  the  stiff  garment ; 
fumbling,  as  he  spoke,  with  his  brown  hands, 
for  the  buttons.     "Gimme  that  collar." 

"  Well,  I  'm  kind'er  wonderin'  if  ye  had  n't 
better  let  Caleb  know.  I  don't  know  what 
Caleb '11  say"  — 

"  I  ain't  a-carin'  what  Caleb  says.  I  '11  stop 
that  leak  when  I  git  to  't."  He  held  his  breath 
for  a  moment  and  clutched  the  porcelain  but- 
ton with  his  big  fingers,  .  trying  to  screw  it 
into  his  collar,  as  if  it  had  been  a  nut  on  a 
bolt.  "  Here,  catch  hold  o'  this  button  ;  it 's 
so  plaguy  tight.     No,  —  I  don't  want  no  tooth- 


CAPTAIN    JOE'S    TELEGRAM  183 

brush,  nor  nothin'.  I  would  n't  'er  come  home 
at  all,  but  I  was  so  gormed  up,  an'  she  's  along 
with  them  Leroy  folks  Mr.  Sanford  knows. 
My  —  my"  —  he  continued,  forcing  his  great 
arms  through  the  tight  sleeves  of  his  Sunday 
coat  with  a  humping  motion  of  his  back,  and 
starting  toward  the  door.  "  Jes'  to  think  o' 
Betty  wanderin'  'bout  them  streets  at  night  ! " 

"  Why,  ye  ain't  got  no  cravat  on,  Cap'n 
Joe  !  "  called  Aunty  Bell,  running  after  him,  tie 
in  hand,  to  the  porch. 

"  Here,  give  it  to  me  !  "  he  cried,  snatching 
it  and  cramming  it  into  his  pocket.  "  I  '11  fix 
it  on  the  train."  In  another  moment  he  was 
halfway  down  the  plank  walk,  waving  his  hand, 
shouting  back  over  his  shoulder,  "  Send  word 
to  Cap'n  Bob  to  load  them  other  big  stone  an' 
git  'em  to  the  Ledge  to-day ;  the  wind  's  goin' 
to  haul  to  the  south'ard.  I  '11  be  back  'bout 
eight  o'clock  to-night." 

Aunty  Bell  looked  after  his  hurrying  figure 
until  the  trees  shut  it  from  view ;  then,  gasp- 
ing with  excitement,  angry  with  herself  for  hav- 
ing asked  so  little,  she  reentered  the  kitchen 
and  again  dropped  into  a  chair. 

Betty's  flight  had  been  a  sore  blow  to  the 
bustling  little  wife.  She  had  been  the  last  to 
believe  that  Betty  had  really  deserted  Caleb 
for  Lacey,  even  after  Captain  Joe  had  told  her 
how  the  mate  of  the  Greenport  boat  had  seen 
them  board  the  New  York  train  together. 


184        CALEB   WEST,    MASTER   DIVER 

As  for  the  captain,  he  had  gone  about  his 
work  with  his  mind  filled  with  varying  emotions : 
sympathy  for  Caleb,  sorrow  and  mortification 
over  Betty's  fall,  and  bitter,  intense,  dangerous 
hatred  of  Lacey.  These  were  each  in  turn,  as 
they  assailed  her,  consumed  by  a  never  ending 
hunger  to  get  the  child  home  again,  that  she 
might  begin  the  undoing  of  her  fatal  step.  To 
him  she  was  still  the  little  girl  he  used  to  meet 
on  the  road,  with  her  hair  in  a  tangle  about  her 
head,  her  books  under  her  arm.  As  he  had 
never  fully  realized,  even  when  she  married 
Caleb,  that  anything  had  increased  her  respon- 
sibilities, or  that  she  could  be  anything  but  the 
child  she  looked,  —  so  he  could  not  now  escape 
the  conviction  that  somehow  or  other  "  she  'd 
been  hoodooed,"  as  he  expressed  it,  and  that 
when  she  came  to  herself  her  very  soul  would 
cry  out  in  bitter  agony. 

Every  day  since  her  flight  he  had  been  early 
and  late  at  the  telegraph  office,  and  had  directed 
Bert  Simmons,  the  letter-carrier  on  the  shore 
road,  to  hunt  him  up  wherever  he  might  be, — 
on  the  dock  or  aboard  his  boat,  —  should  a  letter 
come  bearing  his  name.  The  telegram,  there- 
fore, was  not  a  surprise.  That  Sanford  should 
have  found  her  was  what  he  could  not  under- 
stand. 

Aunty  Bell,  with  the  big  secret  weighing  at 
her  heart,  busied  herself  about  the  house,  so  as 
to  make  the  hours  pass  quickly.     She  was  more 


CAPTAIN   JOE'S    TELEGRAM  185 

conservative  and  less  impulsive  in  many  things 
than  the  captain  ;  that  is,  she  was  apt  to  con- 
sider the  opinions  of  her  neighbors,  and  shape 
her  course  accordingly,  unless  stopped  by  one 
of  her  husband's  outbursts  and  won  over  to  his 
way  of  thinking.  The  captain  knew  no  law  but 
his  own  emotions,  and  his  innate  sense  of  right 
and  wrong  sustained  by  his  indomitable  will 
and  courage.  If  the  other  folks  did  n't  like  it, 
the  other  folks  had  to  get  out  of  the  way ;  he 
went  straight  on. 

"Ain't  nobody  goin'  to  have  nothin'  to  do 
with  Betty,  if  she  does  git  tired  of  Lacey  an' 
wants  to  come  home,  poor  child,"  Aunty  Bell 
had  said  to  Captain  Joe  only  the  night  before, 
as  they  sat  together  at  supper.  "  Them  Nevins 
gals  was  sayin'  yesterday  they  'd  pass  her  on 
the  road  and  would  n't  speak  to  her,  not  if  they 
see  her  starvin',  and  was  a-goin'  on  awful  about 
it ;  and  Mis'  Taft  said  "  — 

The  captain  raised  his  head  quickly.  "Jane 
Bell," — when  the  captain  called  Aunty  Bell 
"  Jane "  the  situation  was  serious,  —  "I  ain't 
got  nothin'  to  do  with  them  Nevins  gals,  nor 
Mis'  Taft,  nor  nobody  else,  and  you  ain't  got 
nothin',  neither.  Ain't  we  hed  this  child  run- 
nin'  in  an'  out  here  jes'  like  a  kitten  ever  since 
we  been  here  ?  Don't  you  know  clean  down 
in  yer  heart  that  there  ain't  no  better  gal  ever 
lived  'n  Betty  ?  Ain't  we  all  liable  to  go  'stray, 
and  ain't  we  all  of  us  so  dirt  mean  that  if  we 


186        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

had  our  hatches  off  there  ain't  nobody  who  see 
our  cargo  would  speak  to  us  ?  Now  don't  let 
me  hear  no  more  about  folks  passin'  her  by. 
I  ain't  a-goin'  to  pass  her  by,  and  you  ain't, 
neither,  if  them  Nevins  gals  and  old  Mother 
Taft  and  the  whole  kit  and  caboodle  of  'em 
walks  on  t'other  side." 

She  remembered  the  very  sound  of  these 
words,  as  she  rested  for  a  moment,  rocking  to 
and  fro,  in  the  kitchen,  after  the  captain  had 
gone,  her  fat  little  feet  swinging  clear  of  the 
floor.  She  could  even  hear  the  tone  of  his 
voice,  and  could  see  the  flashing  of  his  eye. 
The  remembrance  gave  her  courage.  She 
wanted  some  one  to  come  in,  that  she  might 
put  on  the  captain's  armor  and  fight  for  the 
child  herself. 

She  had  not  long  to  wait.  Mrs.  Taft  was 
already  coming  up  the  walk,  —  for  dinner,  per- 
haps. Carleton  was  walking  beside  her.  They 
had  met  at  the  gate. 

"  I  heard  the  captain  had  to  go  to  New  York, 
Aunty  Bell,  and  so  I  thought  maybe  you  'd  be 
alone,"  said  Mrs.  Taft,  taking  off  her  bonnet. 
"  No  news  from  the  runaway,  I  suppose  ?  Ain't 
it  dreadful  ?  She  's  the  last  girl  in  the  world  I 
would  'a'  thought  of  doing  a  thing  like  that." 

"We  ain't  none  of  us  perfect,  Mis'  Taft. 
Take  a  chair,  Mr.  Carleton.  If  we  was,  we 
could  most  of  us  stay  here  ;  there  would  n't 
be  no  use  o'  heaven." 


CAPTAIN  JOE'S   TELEGRAM  187 

"  But,  Aunty  Bell ! "  exclaimed  the  visitor, 
"you  surely  don't  think —  Why,  it  's  awful 
for  Betty  to  go  and  do  what  she  did  "  — 

"I  ain't  judgin'  nobody,  Mis'  Taft.  I  ain't 
a-blamin'  Betty,  an'  I  ain't  a-blamin'  Caleb. 
I  'm  only  thinkin'  of  all  the  sufferin'  that  poor 
child  's  got  to  go  through  now,  an'  what  a  mean 
world  this  is  for  her  to  have  to  live  in." 

"  Serves  the  old  man  right  for  marrying  a 
girl  young  enough  to  be  his  daughter,"  said 
Carleton,  with  a  laugh,  tilting  back  his  chair, 

—  his  favorite  attitude.  "  I  made  up  my  mind 
the  first  day  I  saw  her  that  she  was  a  little 
larky.     She  's  been  fooling  West  all  summer, 

—  anybody  could  see  that."  He  had  not  for- 
given the  look  in  Caleb's  eye  that  afternoon 
aboard  the  Screamer.  "  When  's  the  captain 
coming  home  ?  " 

Aunty  Bell  looked  at  the  superintendent, 
her  lips  curling,  as  the  hard,  dry  laugh  rang  in 
her  ears.  She  had  never  fancied  him,  and  she 
liked  him  less  now  than  ever.  Her  first  im- 
pulse was  to  give  him  a  piece  of  her  mind,  — 
an  indigestible  morsel  when  served  hot.  Then 
she  remembered  that  her  husband  was  having 
some  difficulty  with  him  about  the  acceptance 
of  the  concrete  disk,  and  so  her  temper,  chilled 
by  this  more  politic  second  thought,  cooled 
down  and  stiffened  into  a  frigid  determination 
not  to  invite  him  to  dinner  if  she  ate  nothing 
herself  all  day. 


188        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

"  Cap'n  '11  be  here  in  the  mornin',"  she  an- 
swered curtly.     "  Got  any  message  for  him  ?" 

"Yes.  Tell  him  I  was  out  to  the  Ledge 
yesterday  with  my  transit,  and  the  concrete  is 
too  low  by  six  inches  near  the  southeast  derrick. 
It 's  got  to  come  up  to  grade  before  I  can  cer- 
tify. I  thought  I  'd  come  in  and  tell  him,  — 
he  wanted  to  know." 

The  door  opened,  and  the  tall  form  of  Cap- 
tain Bob  Brandt,  the  Screamer's  skipper,  en- 
tered. 

"Excuse  me,  Mis'  Bell,"  he  said,  removing 
his  hat  and  bowing  good-humoredly  to  every- 
body. "  I  saw  ye  pass,  Mr.  Carleton,  an'  I 
wanted  to  tell  ye  that  we  're  ready  now  to  h'ist 
sail  fur  the  Ledge.  We  got  'leven  stone  on. 
Caleb  ain't  workin'  this  week,  an'  one  o'  the 
other  divers  's  a-goin'  to  set  'em.  Guess  it 's 
all  right ;  the  worst  is  all  done.  Will  you  go 
out  with  us,  or  trust  me  to  git  'em  right  ?  " 

"  Well,  where  are  you  going  to  put  'em  ? " 
asked  Carleton  in  his  voice  of  authority. 

"  Las'  time  Caleb  was  down,  sir,  he  said  he 
wanted  four  more  stone  near  the  boat-landin', 
in  about  twelve  foot  o'  water,  to  finish  that 
row ;  then  we  kin  begin  another  layer  nex'  to 
'em,  if  ye  say  so.  S'pose  you  know  Cap'n  Joe 
ain't  here  ?  —  gone  to  New  York.  Will  you  go 
with  us  ? " 

"  No  ;  you  set  'em.  I  '11  come  out  in  the  tug 
in  the  morning  and  drop  a  rod  on  'em,  and  if 


CAPTAIN   JOE'S    TELEGRAM  189 

they  're  not  right  you  '11  have  to  take  'em  up 
again.  That  concrete  's  out  of  level,  you  know." 

"  What  concrete?" 

"  Why,  the  big  circular  disk,"  snapped  Carle- 
ton. 

This  was  only  another  excuse  of  Carleton's 
for  refusing  to  sign  the  certificate.  The  engi- 
neer had  postponed  his  visit,  and  so  this  fresh 
obstruction  was  necessary  to  maintain  his  policy 
of  delay.    . 

"  Not  when  I  see  it,  sir,  three  days  ago," 
said  Captain  Brandt  in  surprise.  "  It  was  dead 
low  water,  an'  the  tide  jest  touched  the  edges 
of  the  outer  band  all  round  even." 

"Well,  I  guess  I  know,"  retorted  the  super- 
intendent, flaring  up.  "  I  was  out  there  yes- 
terday with  a  level,  an'  walked  all  over  it." 

"  Must'er  got  yer  feet  wet,  then,  sir,"  said 
the  skipper,  with  a  laugh,  as  he  turned  toward 
the  door.  "  The  tide  's  been  from  eight  inches 
to  a  foot  higher  'n  usual  for  three  days  past ; 
it 's  full-moon  tides." 

During  the  talk  Aunty  Bell  and  Mrs.  Taft 
had  slipped  into  the  sitting-room,  and  the 
superintendent,  finding  himself  alone,  called 
to  the  skipper,  and  joined  him  on  the  garden 
walk. 

As  the  afternoon  hours  wore  on,  and  no 
other  callers  came  in,  —  Mrs.  Taft  having 
gone,  —  Aunty  Bell  brought  a  big  basket,  filled 
with  an  assortment  of  yarn  stockings  of  varied 


190        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

stains  and  repairs,  out  to  a  chair  on  the  porch, 
and  made  believe  to  herself  that  she  was  put- 
ting them  in  order  for  the  captain  when  he 
should  need  a  dry  pair.  Now  and  then  she 
would  stop,  her  hand  in  the  rough  stocking, 
her  needle  poised,  her  mind  going  back  to  the 
days  when  she  first  moved  to  Keyport,  and 
this  curly-haired  girl  from  the  fishing-village  a 
mile  or  more  away  had  won  her  heart.  Since 
the  death  of  that  baby  girl  of  long  ago,  Betty, 
somehow,  had  filled  day  by  day  all  the  deep 
corners  of  the  sore  heart,  still  aching  from  this 
earlier  sorrow.  When  the  girl's  mother  died, 
a  few  months  after  Betty's  marriage,  Aunty 
Bell  had  thrown  a  shawl  over  her  head,  and, 
going  to  Caleb's  cabin,  had  mounted  the  stairs 
to  Betty's  little  room  and  shut  the  door.  With 
infinite  tenderness  she  had  drawn  the  girl's 
head  down  on  her  own  bosom,  and  had  poured 
out  to  her  all  the  mother's  love  she  had  in  her 
own  heart,  and  had  told  her  of  that  daughter 
of  her  dreams.  Betty  had  not  forgotten  it, 
and  among  all  those  she  knew  on  the  shore 
road  she  loved  Aunty  Bell  the  best.  There 
were  few  days  in  the  week  —  particularly  in  the 
summer,  when  Caleb  was  away  —  that  she  was 
not  doing  something  for  Aunty  Bell,  her  bright 
face  and  merry,  ringing  laugh  filling  the  house 
and  the  little  woman's  life,  —  an  infectious, 
bubbling,  girlish  laugh  that  made  it  a  delight 
to  be  with  her. 


CAPTAIN  JOE'S   TELEGRAM  191 

But  a  fresh  thought,  like  a  draft  from  an 
open  door,  rushed  into  Aunty  Bell's  mind  with 
a  force  that  sent  a  shiver  through  her  tender 
heart,  and  chilled  every  kind  impulse.  Sup- 
pose Caleb  should  turn  his  back  on  this  girl 
wife  of  his.  What  then  ?  Ought  she  to  take 
her  to  her  heart  and  brave  it  out  with  the  neigh- 
bors ?  What  sort  of  an  example  was  it  to 
other  young  women  along  the  shore,  Aunty 
Bell's  world  ?  Could  they,  too,  run  off  with 
any  young  fellows  they  met,  and  then  come 
home  and  be  forgiven  ?  It  was  all  very  well 
for  the  captain,  —  he  never  stopped  to  think 
about  these  things, — that  was  his  way;  but 
what  was  her  duty  in  the  matter?  Would  it 
not  be  better  in  the  end  for  Betty  if  she  were 
made  to  realize  her  wrong-doing,  and  to  suffer 
for  it  ? 

These  alternating  memories  and  perplexities 
absorbed  her  as  she  sat  on  the  porch,  the  stock- 
ings in  her  lap,  her  mind  first  on  one  course  of 
action  and  then  on  another,  until  some  tone  of 
Betty's  voice,  or  the  movement  of  her  hand, 
or  the  toss  of  her  head  came  back,  and  with  it 
the  one  intense,  overwhelming  desire  to  help 
and  comfort  the  child  she  loved. 

When  it  began  to  grow  dark  she  lighted  the 
lamp  in  the  front  room,  and  made  herself  a  cup 
of  tea  in  the  kitchen.  Every  few  minutes  she 
glanced  at  the  clock,  her  ears  alert  for  the 
whistle  of  the  incoming  train.     Losing  conn- 


192        CALEB  WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

dence  even  in  the  clock,  she  again  took  her 
seat  on  the  porch,  her  arms  on  the  rail,  her 
plump  chin  resting  on  her  hands,  straining 
her  eyes  to  see  far  down  the  road. 

When  the  signaling  whistle  of  the  train  was 
heard,  the  long-drawn  sound  reverberating 
over  the  hills,  she  ran  to  the  gate,  and  stood 
there,  her  apron  thrown  over  her  head.  Soon 
a  carriage  passed,  filled  with  summer  visitors, 
their  trunks  piled  in  front,  and  drove  on  up 
the  road.  Then  a  man  carrying  a  bag  hurried 
by  with  two  women,  their  arms  full  of  bundles. 
After  that  the  road  was  deserted.  These  ap- 
peared to  be  all  the  passengers  coming  her 
way.  As  the  minutes  dragged,  and  no  sound 
of  footsteps  reached  her  ear,  and  no  big  burly 
figure  with  a  slender  girl  beside  it  loomed 
against  the  dim  light  of  the  fading  sky,  her 
courage  failed  and  her  eyes  began  to  grow 
moist.  She  saw  it  all  now :  Betty  dared  not 
come  home  and  face  Caleb  and  the  others  ! 

Suddenly  she  heard  her  name  called  from 
inside  the  house,  and  again  from  the  kitchen 
door. 

"  Aunty  Bell !  Aunty  Bell !  where  be  ye  ? " 

It  was  the  captain's  voice :  he  must  have 
left  the  train  at  the  drawbridge  and  crossed 
lots,  coming  in  at  the  rear  gate. 

She  hurried  up  the  plank  walk,  and  met  him 
at  the  kitchen  door.  He  was  leaning  against 
the  jamb.     It  was  too  dark  to  see  his  face.    A 


CAPTAIN   JOE'S    TELEGRAM  193 

dreadful  sense  of  some  impending  calamity 
overcame  her. 

"  Where 's  Betty  ?  "  she  faltered,  scarcely 
able  to  speak. 

The  captain  pointed  inside. 

The  little  woman  pushed  past  him  into  the 
darkening  room.  For  a  moment  she  stood 
still,  her  eyes  fixed  on  Betty's  slender,  droop- 
ing figure  and  bowed  head,  outlined  against 
the  panes  of  the  low  window. 

"  Betty  !  "  she  cried,  running  forward  with 
outstretched  arms. 

The  girl  did  not  move. 

"  Betty  —  my  child  !  "  Aunty  Bell  cried 
again,  taking  the  weeping  woman  in  her  arms. 

Then,  with  smothered  kisses  and  halting, 
broken  speech,  these  two — the  forgiving  and 
the  forgiven  —  sank  to  the  floor. 

Outside,  on  a  bench  by  the  door,  sat  the  cap- 
tain, rocking  himself,  bringing  his  hands  down 
on  his  knees,  and  with  every  seesaw  repeating 
in  a  low  tone  to  himself,  "  She  's  home.  She 's 
home." 


CHAPTER  XII 

CAPTAIN   JOE'S   CREED 

When  Captain  Joe  flung  open  Caleb's  cabin 
door,  the  same  cry  was  on  his  lips:  "She's 
home,  Caleb,  she  's  home !  Run  'way  an'  lef 
him,  jes'  's  I  knowed  she  would,  soon  's  she 
got  the  spell  off'n  her." 

Caleb  looked  up  over  the  rim  of  his  glasses 
into  the  captain's  face.  He  was  sitting  at  the 
table  in  his  shirt-sleeves  and  rough  overalls, 
the  carpet  slippers  on  his  feet.  He  was  eating 
his  supper,  —  the  supper  that  he  had  cooked 
himself. 

"  How  d'  ye  know  ? "  he  asked.  The  voice  did 
not  sound  like  Caleb's  ;  it  was  hoarse  and  weak. 

"  She  come  inter  Mr.  Sanford's  place  night 
'fore  last,  scared  almost  to  death,  and  he  tuk 
her  to  them  Leroy  folks  ;  they  was  stavin' 
good  to  her  an'  kep'  'er  till  mornin',  an'  tele- 
graphed me.  I  got  the  eight-ten  this  mornin'. 
There  warn't  no  time,  Caleb,"  —  in  an  apolo- 
getic tone,  —  "  or  I  'd  sent  for  ye,  jes'  's  Aunty 
Bell  wanted  me  to ;  but  I  knowed  ye  'd  un- 
derstand. We  jes'  got  back.  I  'd  brought  'er 
up,  only  she  's  dead  beat  out,  poor  little  gal." 


CAPTAIN  JOE'S   CREED  195 

It  was  a  long  answer  of  the  captain's  to  so 
direct  a  question,  and  it  was  made  with  more 
or  less  misgiving.  It  was  evident  from  his 
manner  that  he  was  a  little  nervous  over  the 
result.  He  did  not  take  his  eyes  from  the 
diver's  face  as  he  fired  these  shots  at  random, 
wondering  where  and  how  they  would  strike. 

"  Where  is  she  now  ? "  inquired  Caleb  quietly. 

"  Down  on  my  kitchen  floor  with  her  head 
in  Aunty  Bell's  lap.  Git  yer  hat  and  come 
'long."  The  captain  leaned  over  the  table  as 
he  spoke,  and  rested  one  hand  on  the  back  of 
Caleb's  chair. 

Caleb  did  not  raise  his  eyes  nor  move.  "  I 
can't  do  her  no  good  no  more,  Cap'n  Joe.  It 
was  jes'  like  ye  to  try  an'  help  her.  Ye  'd  do 
it  for  anybody  that  was  a-sufferin' ;  but  I  don't 
see  my  way  clear.  I  done  all  I  could  for  her 
'fore  she  lef  me,  —  leastwise  I  thought  I  had." 
There  was  no  change  in  the  listless  monotone 
of  his  voice. 

"  You  alius  done  by  her,  Caleb."  The  cap- 
tain's hand  had  slipped  from  the  cbair-back  to 
Caleb's  shoulder.  "  I  know  it,  and  she  knows 
it  now.  She  ain't  ever  goin'  to  forgive  herself 
for  the  way  she  's  treated  ye,  — tol'  me  so  to- 
day comin'  up.  She  's  been  hoodooed,  I  tell 
ye,  —  that 's  what 's  the  matter ;  but  she 's  come 
to  now.  Come  along ;  I  '11  git  yer  hat.  She 
ought'er  go  to  sleep  purty  soon." 

"Ye  need  n't  look  for  my  hat,  Cap'n  Joe. 


196        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

I  ain't  a-goin',"  said  Caleb  quietly,  leaning  back 
in  his  chair.  The  lamp  shone  full  on  his  face 
and  beard.  Captain  Joe  could  see  the  deep 
lines  about  the  eyes,  seaming  the  dry,  shrunken 
skin.  The  diver  had  grown  to  be  a  very  old 
man  in  a  week. 

"  You  say  you  ain't  a-goin',  Caleb  ? "  In  his 
heart  he  had  not  expected  this. 

"  No,  Cap'n  Joe ;  I  'm  goin'  to  stay  here  an' 
git  along  th'  best  way  I  kin.  I  ain't  blamin' 
Betty.  I  'm  blamin'  myself.  I  been  a-thinkin' 
it  all  over.  She  done  'er  best  to  love  me  and 
do  by  me,  but  I  was  too  old  for  'er.  If  it 
had  n't  been  Billy,  it  would'er  been  somebody 
else,  —  somebody  younger  'n  me." 

"  She  don't  want  nobody  else  but  you,  Caleb." 
The  captain's  voice  rose  quickly.  He  was 
crossing  the  room  for  a  chair  as  he  spoke. 
"  She  told  me  so  to-day.  She  purty  nigh  cried 
herself  sick  comin'  up.  I  was  afeard  folks 
would  notice  her." 

"  She 's  sorry  now,  cap'n,  an'  wants  ter  come 
back,  'cause  she  's  skeered  of  it  all,  but  she 
don't  love  me  no  more  'n  she  did  when  she  lef 
me.  When  Billy  finds  she  's  gone,  he  '11  be 
arter  her  agin"  — 

"  Not  if  I  git  my  hands  on  him,"  interrupted 
the  captain  angrily,  dragging  the  chair  to  Ca- 
leb's side. 

"  An'  when  she  begins  to  hunger  for  him," 
continued  Caleb,  taking  no  notice  of  the  out- 


CAPTAIN   JOE'S   CREED  197 

burst,  "  it  '11  be  all  to  do  over  agin.  She  won't 
be  happy  without  him.  I  ain't  got  nothin'  agin 
'er,  but  I  won't  take  'er  back.  It  '11  only  make 
it  wus  for  her  in  the  end." 

"Ye  ain't  a-goin'  ter  chuck  that  gal  out  in 
the  road,  be  ye  ? "  cried  Captain  Joe,  seating 
himself  beside  the  table,  his  head  thrust  forward 
in  Caleb's  face  in  his  earnestness.  "  What 's 
she  but  a  chit  of  a  child  that  don't  know  no 
better?"  he  burst  out.  "She  ain't  more 'n 
twenty  now,  and  here  's  some  on  us  more  'n 
twice  'er  age  and  liable  to  do  wus  every  day. 
Think  of  yerself  when  ye  was  her  age.  Do  ye 
remember  all  the  mean  things  ye  done,  and  the 
lies  ye  told  ?  S'pose  you  'd  been  chucked  out 
as  ye  want  to  do  to  Betty.  It  ain't  decent  for 
ye  to  talk  so,  Caleb,  and  I  don't  like  ye  fur  it, 
neither.  She  's  a  good  gal,  and  you  know  it," 
and  the  captain,  in  his  restlessness,  shifted  the 
chair  and  planted  it  immediately  in  front  of 
Caleb,  where  he  could  look  him  straight  in  the 
eye.  Aunty  Bell  had  told  him  just  what  Caleb 
would  say,  but  he  had  not  believed  it  possible. 

"  I  ain't  said  she  warn't,  Cap'n  Joe.  I  ain't 
blamin'  her,  nor  never  will.  I  'm  blamin'  my- 
self. I  ought'er  stayed  tendin'  light-ship  in- 
stead'er  comin'  ashore  and  spilin'  'er  life.  I 
was  lonely,  and  the  fust  one  was  alius  sickly, 
an'  I  thought  maybe  my  time  had  come  then  ; 
and  it  did  while  she  was  with  me.  I  'd  ruther 
heared  her  a-singin',  when  I  come  in  here  at 


198        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

night,  than  any  music  I  ever  knowed."  His 
voice  broke  for  a  moment.  "  I  done  by  her 
all  I  could,  but  I  begin  to  see  lately  she  was 
lonelier  here  with  me  than  I  was  'board  ship 
with  nothin'  half  the  time  to  talk  to  but  my 
dog.  I  didn't  think  it  was  Billy  she  wanted, 
but  I  see  it  now." 

Captain  Joe  rose  from  his  chair  and  began 
pacing  the  room.  His  onslaughts  broke 
against  Caleb's  indomitable  will  with  as  little 
effect  as  did  the  waves  about  his  own  feet  the 
day  he  set  the  derricks. 

His  faith  in  Betty's  coming  to  herself  had 
never  been  shaken  for  an  instant.  If  it  had, 
it  would  all  have  been  restored  the  morning 
she  met  him  at  Mrs.  Leroy's,  and,  throwing 
her  arms  about  him,  clung  to  him  like  a  fright- 
ened kitten.  His  love  for  the  girl  was  so  great 
that  he  had  seen  but  one  side  of  the  question. 
Her  ingratitude,  her  selfishness  in  ignoring 
the  disgrace  and  misery  she  would  bring  this 
man  who  had  been  everything  to  her,  had  held 
no  place  in  the  captain's  mind.  To  him  the 
case  was  a  plain  one.  She  was  young  and 
foolish,  and  had  committed  a  fault ;  she  was 
sorry  and  repentant ;  she  had  run  away  from 
her  sin  ;  she  had  come  back  to  the  one  she  had 
wronged,  and  she  wanted  to  be  forgiven.  That 
was  his  steadfast  point  of  view,  and  this  was 
his  creed  :  "  Neither  do  I  condemn  thee ;  go 
and  sin  no  more."     That   Caleb  did  not  view 


5a 


^ 
« 


CAPTAIN   JOE'S   CREED  199 

the  question  in  the  same  way  at  first  aston- 
ished, then  irritated  him.  If  she  had  broken 
the  Master's  command  again,  he  would  perhaps 
have  let  her  go  her  way,  —  for  what  was 
innately  bad  he  hated,  —  but  not  now,  when 
she  had  awakened  to  a  sense  of  her  sin.  He 
continued  to  pace  up  and  down  Caleb's  kitchen, 
his  hands  behind  his  broad  back,  his  horny, 
stubby  fingers  twisting  nervously  together. 
Caleb  sat  still  in  his  chair,  the  lamplight 
streaming  over  his  face.  In  all  the  discussion 
his  voice  had  been  one  low  monotone.  It 
seemed  but  a  phonographic  echo  of  his  once 
clear  tones. 

The  captain  resumed  his  seat  with  a  half- 
baffled,  weary  air. 

"  Caleb,"  he  said,  —  there  was  a  softness 
now  in  the  tones  of  his  voice  that  made  the 
diver  raise  his  head,  — "  you  and  me  hev 
knowed  each  other  off  'n'  on  for  nigh  on  to 
twenty  years.  We  've  had  it  thick  and  nasty, 
and  we  've  had  as  clear  weather  as  ever  a  man 
sailed  in.  You  've  tried  to  do  square  'tween 
man  and  man,  and  so  far 's  I  know,  ye  have, 
and  I  don't  believe  ye  're  goin'  to  turn  crooked 
now.  From  the  time  this  child  used  to  come 
down  to  the  dock,  when  I  fust  come  to  work 
here,  and  talk  to  me  'tween  school  hours,  and 
Aunty  Bell  would  take  her  in  to  dinner,  down 
to  the  time  she  got  hoodooed  by  that  smooth 
face  and  lyin'   tongue,  —  damn  him!  I '11  spile 


200        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

t'other  side  for  him,  some  day,  wus  than  the 
Screamer  did, — from  that  time,  I  say,  this 
'ere  little  gal  ain't  been  nothin'  but  a  bird 
fillin'  everything  full  of  singin'  from  the  time 
she  got  up  till  she  went  to  bed  agin.  I  ask  ye 
now,  man  to  man,  if  that  ain't  so  ? " 

Caleb  nodded  his  head. 

"During  all  that  time  there  ain't  been  a 
soul  up  and  down  this  road,  man,  woman,  nor 
child,  that  she  would  n't  help  if  she  could,  — 
and  there 's  a  blame'  sight  of  'em  she  did  help, 
as  you  an'  I  know  :  sick  child'en,  sittin'  up  with 
'em  nights  ;  an'  makin'  bonnets  for  folks  as 
could  n't  git  'em  no  other  way,  without  payin' 
for  'em  ;  and  doin'  all  she  could  to  make  this 
place  happier  for  her  bein'  in  it.  Since  she  's 
been  yer  wife,  there  ain't  been  a  tidier  nor 
nicer  place  along  the  shore  road  than  yours, 
and  there  ain't  been  a  happier  little  woman 
nor  home  nowheres.     Is  that  so,  or  not  ?  " 

Again  Caleb  nodded  his  head. 

"  While  all  this  is  a-goin'  on,  here  comes 
that  little  skunk,  Bill  Lacey,  with  a  tongue 
like  'n  ile-can,  and  every  time  she  says  she  's 
lonely  or  tired  —  and  she's  had  plenty  of  it, 
you  bein'  away  —  he  up 's  with  his  can  and 
squirts  it  into  'er  ear  about  her  bein'  tied  to 
an  old  man,  and  how  if  she  'd  married  him  he 
would  n't  'a'  lef  her  a  minute  " — 

Caleb  looked  up  inquiringly,  an  ugly  gleam 
in  his  eyes. 


CAPTAIN   JOE'S    CREED  201 

"Oh,  I  ketched  him  at  it  one  day  in  my 
kitchen,  and  I  tol'  him  then  I  'd  break  his 
head,  and  I  wish  to  God  I  had,  now  !  Purty 
soon  comes  the  time  with  the  Screamer,  and 
his  face  gets  stove  in.  What  does  Betty  do  ? 
Leave  them  men  to  git  'long  best  way  they 
could,  —  like  some  o'  the  folks  round  here  that 
was  just  as  well  able  to  'ford  the  time,  —  or 
did  she  stand  by  and  ketch  a  line  and  make 
fast  ?  I  '11  tell  ye  what  she  done,  'cause  I  was 
there,  and  you  warn't.  Fust  one  come  ashore 
was  Billy  ;  he  looked  like  he  'd  fallen  off  a  top- 
gall'nt  mast  and  struck  the  deck  with  his  face. 
Lonny  Bowles  come  next ;  he  warn't  so  bad 
mashed  up.  What  did  Betty  do  ?  Pick  out 
the  easiest  one?  No,  she  jes'  anchored  right 
'longside  that  boy,  and  hung  on,  and  never  had 
'er  clo'es  off  for  nigh  on  to  forty-eight  hours.  If 
he  's  walkin'  round  now  he  owes  it  to  her.  Is 
that  so,  or  not  ?  " 

"It's  true,  cap'n,"  said  Caleb,  his  eyes  fas- 
tened on  the  captain's  face.  The  lids  were 
heavy  now  ;  only  his  will  held  back  the  tears. 

"  For  three  weeks  this  went  on,  she  a-settin' 
like  a  little  rabbit  with  her  paws  up  starin'  at 
him,  her  eyes  gettin'  bigger  all  the  time,  an' 
he  lyin',  coiled  up  like  a  snake,  lookin'  up  into 
her  face  until  he  'd  hoodooed  her  and  got  her 
clean  off  her  centre.  Now  there  's  one  thing 
I  'm  a-goin'  to  ask  ye,  an'  before  I  ask  ye,  an' 
before  ye  answer  it,  I  'm  a-goin'  to  ask  ye  an- 


202        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

other  :  when  the  Three  Sisters  come  ashore 
on  Deadman  Shoal  las'  winter  in  that  sou'- 
easter, 'cause  the  light  warn't  lit,  an'  all  o' 
them  men  was  drownded,  whose  fault  was  it  ? " 

"  Why,  you  know,  Cap'n  Joe,"  Caleb  inter- 
posed quickly,  eager  to  defend  a  brother 
keeper,  a  pained  and  surprised  expression  over- 
spreading his  face.  "  Poor  Charles  Edwards 
had  been  out  o'  his  head  for  a  week." 

"  That 's  right,  Caleb  ;  that 's  what  I  heard, 
an'  that 's  true,  an'  the  dead  men  and  the 
owners  had  n't  nobody  to  blame,  an'  did  n't. 
Now  I  '11  ask  ye  the  other  question  :  When 
Betty,  after  livin'  every  day  of  her  life  as 
straight  as  a  marlin  spike,  run  away  an'  lef  ye 
a  week  ago,  an'  broke  up  yer  home,  who  's  to 
blame,  —  Betty,  or  the  hoodoo  that 's  put  'er 
out'er  her  mind  ever  since  the  Screamer  blowed 
up  ? " 

Caleb  settled  back  in  his  chair  and  rested 
his  chin  on  his  hand,  his  big  fluffy  beard  hiding 
his  wrist  and  shirt-cuff.  For  a  long  time  he 
did  not  answer.  The  captain  sat,  with  his 
hands  on  his  knees,  looking  searchingly  into 
Caleb's  face,  watching  every  expression  that 
crossed  it. 

"  Cap'n  Joe,"  said  the  diver  in  his  calm,  low 
voice,  "  I  hearn  ye  talk,  an'  I  know  ye  well 
'nough  to  know  that  ye  believe  every  word  ye 
say,  an'  I  don't  know  but  it 's  all  true.  I  ain't 
had  much  'sperience  o'  women  folks,  only  two. 


CAPTAIN   JOE'S    CREED  203 

But  I  don't  think  ye  git  this  right.  It  ain't 
for  myself  that  I  'm  thinkin'.  I  kin  git  along 
alone,  an'  do  my  own  cookin'  an'  washin'  same 
as  I  alius  used  to.  It 's  Betty  I  'm  thinkin'  of. 
She 's  tried  me  more  'n  a  year,  an'  done  her 
best,  an'  give  it  up.  She  would  n't  'a'  been 
'  hoodooed,'  as  ye  call  it,  by  Bill  Lacey  if  her 
own  heart  warn't  ready  for  it  'fore  he  began. 
It 's  agin  natur'  for  a  gal  as  young  's  Betty  to 
be  happy  with  a  man  's  old  's  me.  She  can't 
do  it,  no  matter  how  hard  she  tries.  I  did  n't 
know  it  when  I  asked  her,  but  I  see  it  now." 

"  But  she  knows  better  now,  Caleb  ;  she  ain't 
a-goin'  to  cut  up  no  more  capers."  There  was 
a  yearning,  an  almost  pitiful  tone  in  the  cap- 
tain's voice.     His  face  was  close  to  Caleb's. 

"  Ye  think  so,  an'  maybe  she  won't ;  but 
there  's  one  thing  yer  don't  seem  to  see,  Cap'n 
Joe  :  she  can't  git  out'er  love  with  me  an'  inter 
love  with  Billy  an'  back  agin  to  me  in  a  week." 

These  last  words  came  slowly,  as  if  they  had 
been  dragged  up  out  of  the  very  depths  of  his 
heart. 

"  She  never  was  out'er  love  with  ye,  Caleb, 
nor  in  with  Lacey.  Don't  I  tell  ye  ? "  he  cried 
impatiently,  too  absorbed  in  Betty's  welfare  to 
note  the  seriousness  of  Caleb's  tone. 

"Yes,"  said  Caleb.  His  voice  had  fallen 
almost  to  a  whisper.  "I  know  ye  think  so, 
but  th'  bes'  thing  now  for  the  little  gal  is  to 
give  'er  'er  freedom,  an'  let  'er  go  'er  way.     She 


204        CALEB   WEST,    MASTER   DIVER 

shan't  suffer  as  long  's  I  've  got  a  dollar,  but  I 
won't  have  'er  come  home.  It  '11  only  break 
her  heart  then  as  well 's  mine.  Now  —  now  — 
it  's  only  me  —  that  is  "  —  Caleb's  head  sank 
to  the  table  until  his  face  lay  on  his  folded  arms. 

Captain  Joe  rose  from  his  chair,  bent  down 
and  laid  his  hand  softly  on  the  diver's  shoulder. 
When  he  spoke  his  voice  had  the  pleading  tones 
of  a  girl. 

"  Caleb,  don't  keep  nothin'  back  in  yer  heart ; 
take  Betty  home.  You  need  n't  go  down  for 
her.  I  '11  go  myself  an'  bring  her  here.  It 
won't  be  ten  minutes  'fore  her  arms  '11  be  round 
yer  neck.     Lemme  go  for  her  ? " 

The  diver  raised  his  head  erect,  looked  Cap- 
tain Joe  calmly  in  the  eye,  and,  without  a  trace 
of  bitterness  in  his  voice,  said  :  "  She  '11  never 
set  foot  here  as  my  wife  agin,  Cap'n  Joe,  as 
long  's  she  lives.  I  ain't  got  the  courage  to 
set  still  an'  see  her  pine  away  day  arter  day,  if 
she  comes  back,  an'  I  won't.  I  love  'er  too 
much  for  that.  If  she  was  my  own  child  in- 
stead o'  my  wife,  I  'd  say  the  same  thing.  It 's 
Betty  I  'm  a-thinkin'  of,  not  myself.  It  'd  be 
twict  's  hard  for  'er  the  next  time  she  got  tired 
an'  wanted  to  go.  It 's  all  over  now,  an*  she  's 
free.     Let  it  all  stay  so." 

"Don't  say  that,  Caleb."  The  shock  of  the 
refusal  seemed  to  have  stunned  him.  "Don't 
say  that.  Think  o'  that  child,  Caleb  :  she  come 
back  to  ye,  an'  you  shut  your  door  agin  'er." 


CAPTAIN   JOE'S    CREED  205 

Caleb  shook  his  head,  with  a  meaning  move- 
ment that  showed  the  iron  will  of  the  man  and 
the  hopelessness  of  further  discussion. 

"  Then  she  ain't  good  'nough  for  ye,  's  that 
it?" 

The  captain  was  fast  losing  his  self-control. 
He  knew  in  his  heart  that  in  these  last  words 
he  was  doing  Caleb  an  injustice,  but  his  anger 
got  the  better  of  him. 

Caleb  did  not  answer. 

"  That 's  it.  Say  it  out.  You  don't  believe 
in  her."  His  voice  now  rang  through  the 
kitchen.  One  hand  was  straight  up  over  his 
head  ;  his  lips  quivered.  "  Ye  think  she 's  some 
low-down  critter  instead  of  a  poor  child  that 
ain't  done  nobody  no  wrong  intentional.  I  ask 
ye  for  th'  las'  time,  Caleb.  Be  decent  to  yer- 
self.  Be  a  father  to  'er,  if  ye  can't  be  no  more  ; 
an'  if  ye  can't  be  that,  —  damn  ye  ! —  stan'  up 
an'  forgive  her  like  a  man." 

Caleb  made  no  sign.  The  cruel  thrust  had 
not  reached  his  heart.  He  knew  his  friend, 
and  he  knew  all  sides  of  his  big  nature.  The 
clear  blue  eyes  still  rested  on  the  captain's  face. 

"  You  won't  ? "  There  was  a  tone  almost  of 
defiance  in  the  captain's  words. 

The  diver  again  shook  his  head. 

"Then  I  '11  tell  ye  one  thing,  Caleb,  right 

.  here  "  (he  was  now  bent  forward,  his  forefinger 

in  Caleb's  face  straight  out  like  a  spike) :  "  ye  're 

doin'  the  meanest  thing  I  ever  knowed  a  man 


206        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

to  do  in  my  whole  life.  I  don't  like  ye  fur  it, 
an'  I  never  will  's  long  's  I  live.  I  would  n't 
serve  a  dog  so,  let  alone  Betty.  An'  now  I  '11 
tell  ye  another :  if  she  ain't  good  'nough  to  live 
with  you,  she  's  good  'nough  to  live  with  Aunty 
Bell  an'  me,  an'  there  's  where  she  '11  stay  jes' 
's  long  's  she  wants  to." 

Without  a  word  of  good-night  he  picked  up 
his  hat  and  strode  from  the  room,  slamming 
the  door  behind  him  with  a  force  that  rattled 
every  plate  on  the  table. 

Caleb  half  started  from  his  chair  as  if  to  call 
him  back.  Then,  with  a  deep  indrawn  sigh,  he 
rose  wearily  from  the  chair,  covered  the  smoul- 
dering fire  with  ashes,  locked  the  doors,  fas- 
tened the  two  shutters,  and,  taking  up  the 
lamp,  went  slowly  upstairs  to  his  empty  bed. 

The  following  Sunday  Captain  Joe  shaved 
himself  with  the  greatest  care,  —  that  is,  he 
slashed  his  face  as  full  of  cuts  as  a  Heidelberg 
student's  after  a  duel ;  squeezed  his  big  broad 
shoulders  into  his  black  coat,  —  the  one  inches 
too  tight  across  the  back,  the  cloth  all  in  cor-j 
rugated  wrinkles  ;  tugged  at  his  stiff  starched 
collar  until  his  face  was  purple  ;  hauled  taut  a 
sleazy  cravat ;  and,  in  a  determined  quarter- 
deck voice  rarely  heard  from  him,  ordered 
Aunty  Bell  to  get  on  her  best  clothes,  call 
Betty,  and  come  with  him. 

"  What  in  natur'  's  got  into  ye,  Cap'n  Joe  ? " 


CAPTAIN   JOE'S    CREED  207 

"  Church  's  got  inter  me,  and  you  an'  Betty 's 
goin'  along." 

"  Ye  ain't  never  goin'  to  church,  be  ye  ? " 
No  wonder  Aunty  Bell  was  thunderstruck. 
Neither  of  them  had  been  inside  of  a  church 
since  they  moved  to  Keyport.  Sunday  was  the 
captain's  day  for  getting  rested,  and  Aunty 
Bell  always  helped  him. 

"  I  ain't,  ain't  I  ?  That 's  all  ye  know,  Jane 
Bell.  You  git  Betty  an'  come  along,  jes'  's  I 
tell  ye.  I  'm  a-runnin'  this  ship."  There  was 
that  peculiar  look  in  the  captain's  eye  and  tone 
in  his  voice  that  his  wife  knew  too  well.  It  was 
never  safe  to  resist  him  in  one  of  these  moods. 

Betty  burst  into  tears  when  the  little  woman 
told  her,  and  said  she  dared  not  go,  and 
could  n't,  until  a  second  quick,  not-to-be-ques- 
tioned order  resounded  up  the  staircase  :  — 

"  Here,  now,  that  church  bell 's  purty  nigh 
done  ringin'.  We  got  ter  git  aboard  'fore  the 
gangplank's  drawed  in." 

"  Come  along,  child,"  said  Aunty  Bell. 
"  'T  ain't  no  use  ;  he  's  got  one  o'  his  spells  on. 
Which  church  be  ye  goin'  to,  anyway  ? "  she 
called  to  him,  as  they  came  downstairs. 
"  Methodist  or  Dutch  ?  " 

"Don't  make  no  difference,  —  fust  one  we 
come  to ;  an'  Betty 's  goin'  to  set  plumb  in  the 
middle  'tween  you  an'  me,  jes'  so  's  folks  kin 
see.  I  ain't  goin'  to  have  no  funny  business, 
nor  hand-whispers,  nor  head-shakin's  about  the 


208        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

little  gal  from  nobody  along  this  shore,  from 
the  preacher  down,  or  somebody  '11  git  hurted." 

All  through  the  service  —  he  had  marched 
down  the  middle  aisle  and  taken  the  front  seat 
nearest  the  pulpit  —  he  sat  bolt  upright,  like  a 
corporal  on  guard,  his  eyes  on  the  minister, 
his  ears  alert.  Now  and  then  he  would  sweep 
his  glance  around,  meeting  the  wondering  looks 
of  the  congregation,  who  had  lost  interest  in 
everything  about  them  but  the  three  figures 
in  the  front  pew.  Then,  with  a  satisfied  air, 
now  that  neither  the  speaker  nor  his  hearers 
showed  anything  but  respectful  curiosity,  and 
no  spoken  word  from  the  pulpit  bore  the  remot- 
est connection  with  the  subject  uppermost  in 
his  mind, — no  Magdalens  nor  Prodigal  Sons, 
nor  anything  of  like  significance  (there  is  no 
telling  what  would  have  happened  had  there 
been),  — he  settled  himself  again,  and  looked 
straight  at  the  minister. 

When  the  benediction  had  been  pronounced 
he  waited  until  the  crowd  got  thickest  around 
the  door,  —  he  knew  why  the  congregation 
lagged  behind  ;  then  he  made  his  way  into  its 
midst,  holding  Betty  by  the  arm  as  if  she  had 
been  under  arrest.  Singling  out  old  Captain 
Potts,  a  retired  sea-captain,  a  great  church- 
goer and  something  of  a  censor  over  the  morals 
of  the  community,  he  tapped  him  on  the  shoul- 
der, and  said  in  a  voice  loud  enough  to  be 
heard  by  everybody  :  — 


CAPTAIN   JOE'S    CREED  209 

"  This  is  our  little  gal,  Betty  West,  Cap'n 
Potts.  Caleb  's  gin  her  up,  and  she  's  come 
to  live  with  us.  When  ye  're  passin'  our  way 
with  yer  folks,  it  won't  do  ye  no  harm  to  stop 
in  to  see  her." 


CHAPTER  XIII 

A    SHANTY    DOOR 

Sanford  had  expected,  when  he  led  Betty 
from  his  door,  that  Mrs.  Leroy  would  give  her 
kindly  shelter,  but  he  had  not  been  prepared 
for  all  that  he  heard  the  next  day.  Kate  had  not 
only  received  the  girl  into  her  house,  but  had 
placed  her  for  the  night  in  a  bedroom  adjoin- 
ing her  own  ;  arranging  the  next  morning  a 
small  table  in  her  dressing-room  where  Betty 
could  breakfast  alone,  free  from  the  pryings 
of  inquisitive  servants.  Mrs.  Leroy  told  all 
these  things  to  Sanford :  describing  the  heart- 
broken weariness  of  the  girl  when  she  arrived  ; 
the  little  joyful  cry  she  gave  when  big,  burly 
Captain  Joe,  his  eyes  blinded  by  the  hot  mid- 
day glare  outside,  came  groping  his  way  into 
the  darkened  boudoir ;  and  Betty's  glad  spring 
into  his  arms,  where  she  lay  while  the  captain 
held  her  with  one  hand,  trying  to  talk  to  both 
Betty  and  herself  at  once,  the  tears  rolling 
down  his  cheeks,  his  other  great  hand  with  the 
thole-pin  fingers  patting  the  girl's  tired  face 
Mrs.  Leroy  told  Sanford  all  these  things  and 
more,  but  she  did  not  say  how  she  herself  had 


A   SHANTY    DOOR  211 

sat  beside  Betty  on  the  divan  that  same  morn- 
ing, before  Captain  Joe  arrived,  winning  little 
by  little  the  girl's  confidence,  until  the  whole 
story  came  out.  Neither  did  she  tell  him  with 
what  tact  and  gentleness  she,  the  woman  of 
the  world,  whose  hours  of  loneliness  had  been 
more  bitter  and  intense  than  any  that  Betty 
ever  knew,  had  shown  this  inexperienced  girl 
how  much  more  noble  it  would  have  been  to 
suffer  and  stand  firm,  doing  and  being  the 
right,  than  to  succumb  as  she  had  done.  Nor 
yet  did  she  tell  Sanford  how  Betty's  mind  had 
cleared,  as  she  talked  on,  and  of  the  way  in 
which  the  girl's  brown  hand  had  crept  toward 
her  own  till  it  nestled  among  her  jeweled  fin- 
gers, while  with  tender  words  of  worldly  wis- 
dom she  had  prepared  her  foster  sister  for 
what  she  still  must  face  in  penance  for  her 
sin  ;  instructing  her  in  the  use  of  those  wea- 
pons of  self-control,  purity  of  purpose,  and  pa- 
tience, with  which  she  must  arm  herself  if  she 
would  win  the  struggle.  Nor  how,  before  the 
morning  hours  were  gone,  she  had  received  the 
girl's  promise  to  go  back  to  her  home,  and,  if 
her  husband  would  not  receive  her,  to  fight  on 
until  she  again  won  for  herself  the  respect  she 
had  lost,  and  among  those,  too,  who  had  once 
loved  her.  Least  of  all  did  she  tell  Sanford 
that  when  the  talk  was  over  and  Betty  was 
gone,  she  had  thrown  herself  on  her  own  bed 
in  an  agony  of  tears,  wondering  after  all  which 


212        CALEB   WEST,    MASTER   DIVER 

one  of  the  two  had  done  the  better  for  herself 
in  the  battle  of  life,  —  she  or  the  girl. 

Sanford  knew  nothing  of  this.  As  he  sat 
in  the  train,  on  his  way  back  to  Keyport,  his 
heart  had  gone  out  to  the  girl,  for  he  had  been 
greatly  wrought  up  by  the  story  Kate  told  him 
and  by  the  pictures  she  had  given  of  the  inter- 
view. Yet,  strange  to  say,  he  found  himself 
bewildered  by  the  fact  that,  even  more  than 
the  story,  he  remembered  the  tones  of  Kate's 
voice  and  the  very  color  of  her  eyes  as  she 
talked.  He  was  constantly  seeing,  too,  as  he 
lingered  over  its  details,  a  vision  of  Kate  her- 
self as  she  stood  in  the  hall  and  bade  him 
good-by,  —  her  full  white  throat  above  the  ruf- 
fles of  her  morning-gown.  As  he  rode  on,  he 
found  it  difficult  to  turn  his  mind  to  other 
things,  or  to  quiet  his  inner  enthusiasm  for  her 
gentleness  and  charity. 

And  yet  there  were  important  affairs  to 
which  he  owed  immediate  attention.  Carle- 
ton's  continued  refusal  to  sign  a  certificate  for 
the  concrete  disk,  without  which  no  payment 
would  be  made  by  the  government,  would,  if 
persisted  in,  cause  him  serious  embarrassment. 
The  difficulty  with  Carleton  had  already 
reached  an  acute  stage.  Captain  Joe  had  alto- 
gether failed  in  his  efforts  to  make  the  superin- 
tendent sign  the  certificate,  and  Carleton  had 
threatened  to  wire  the  Department  and  de- 
mand a  board  of  survey  if  his  orders  were  not 


A   SHANTY    DOOR  213 

complied  with  at  once.  The  captain  generally 
retired  from  the  field  and  left  the  campaign  to 
Sanford  whenever,  in  the  course  of  their  work, 
it  became  necessary  to  fight  the  United  States 
government — the  sea  was  his  enemy. 

In  this  discussion,  however,  he  had  taken 
the  pains  to  explain  to  Carleton  patiently,  and 
bethought  intelligently,  the  falsity  of  the  stand 
he  took,  showing  him  that  his  idea  about  the 
concrete  base  being  too  low  was  the  result  of 
a  mere  optical  illusion,  due  to  the  action  of  the 
tide  which  backed  the  water  up  higher  within 
the  breakwater  on  the  southeast  side ;  that 
when  the  first  course  of  masonry  was  laid, 
bringing  the  mass  of  concrete  out  of  water, 
his  —  Carleton's  —  mistake  would  be  instantly 
detected. 

Captain  Joe  was  as  much  out  of  patience  as 
he  ever  permitted  himself  to  be  with  Carleton, 
when  he  shook  Sanford's  hand  on  his  arrival. 

"Ain't  no  man  on  earth  smart  'nough  to 
make  eleven  inches  a  foot,  let  alone  a  critter 
like  him  !  "  he  said,  as  he  explained  the  latest 
development. 

Once  over  the  sloop's  side,  Sanford  laid  his 
bag  on  the  deck  and  turned  to  the  men. 

"  Who  saw  the  concrete  at  dead  low  water 
during  that  low  tide  we  had  after  the  last 
northwest  blow  ?  "  he  inquired. 

"  I  did,  sir,"  answered  Captain  Brandt.  "  I 
told  Mr.  Carleton  he  was  wrong.     The  water 


214        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

jes'  tetched  the  outer  iron  band  all  round  when 
I  see  it.     It  was  dead  calm  an'  dead  low  water." 

"  What  do  you  say  to  that,  Mr.  Carleton  ? " 
asked  Sanford,  laughing. 

"  I  'm  not  here  to  take  no  back  talk  from 
nobody,"  replied  Carleton  in  a  surly  tone. 

"Lonny,"  said  Sanford,  —  he  saw  that  fur- 
ther discussion  with  the  superintendent  was 
useless,  —  "  go  ashore  and  get  my  transit  and 
target  rod ;  you  '11  find  them  in  my  bedroom 
at  the  captain's ;  and  please  put  them  here  in 
the  skipper's  bunk,  so  they  won't  get  broken. 
I  '11  run  a  level  on  the  concrete  myself,  Mr. 
Carleton,  when  we  get  to  the  Ledge." 

"  There  ain't  no  use  of  your  transit,"  retorted 
Carleton,  with  a  sneer.  "  It 's  six  inches  too 
low,  I  tell  you.  You  '11  fix  it  as  I  want  it,  or  I  '11 
stop  the  work." 

Sanford  looked  at  him,  but  held  his  peace. 
It  had  not  been  his  first  experience  with  men 
of  Carleton's  class.  He  proposed,  all  the  same, 
to  know  for  himself  who  was  right.  He  had 
seen  Carleton  use  a  transit,  and  had  had  a  dim 
suspicion  at  the  time  that  the  superintendent 
was  looking  through  the  eyepiece  while  it  was 
closed. 

"  Get  ready  for  the  Ledge,  Captain  Brandt, 
as  soon  as  Lonny  returns,"  said  Sanford. 
"  Where  's  Caleb,  Captain  Joe  ?  We  may 
want  him." 

The  captain  touched  Sanford  on  the  shoul- 


A   SHANTY    DOOR  215 

der  and  moved  down  the  deck  with  him,  where 
he  stood  behind  one  of  the  big  stones,  out  of 
hearing  of  the  other  men. 

"  He  's  all  broke  up,  sir.  He  ain't  been  to 
work  since  the  little  gal  left.  I  want  to  thank 
ye,  Mr.  Sanford,  for  what  ye  did  for  'er  ;  and 
that  friend  o'  yourn  could  n't  'a'  been  no  better 
to  her  if  she  'd  been  her  sister." 

"  Oh,  that 's  all  right,  captain,"  said  Sanford, 
laying  a  hand  on  his  shoulder.  "  Betty  is  at 
your  house,  I  hear.     How  does  she  bear  it  ? " 

"  Gritty  as  she  kin  be,  but  she  ain't  braced 
up  much  ;  Aunty  Bell  's  got  'er  arms  round 
'er  most  of  the  time.  I  wish  you  'd  send  for 
Caleb ;  nothin'  else  '11  bring  him  out.  He 
won't  come  for  me.  I  '11  go  for  him  myself,  if 
ye  say  so." 

"  Go  get  him.  I  may  want  him  to  hold  a  rod 
in  four  or  five  feet  of  water.  He  won't  need 
his  helmet,  but  he  '11  need  his  dress.  Do  you 
hear  anything  about  Lacey  ? " 

"  He  ain't  been  round  where  any  of  us  could 
see  him  —  and  git  hold  of  him,"  answered  Cap- 
tain Joe,  knitting  his  brows.  "  I  jes'  wish  he  'd 
come  once.  I  heared  he  was  over  to  Stonin'- 
ton,  workin'  on  the  railroad." 

The  captain  jumped  into  the  yawl  and  sculled 
away  toward  the  diver's  cabin.  He  had  not 
felt  satisfied  with  himself  since  the  night  when 
Caleb  had  refused  to  take  Betty  back.  He  had 
said  then,  in  the  heat  of  the  moment,  some 


216        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

things  which  had  hurt  him  as  much  as  they  had 
hurt  Caleb.  He  would  have  told  him  so  before, 
but  he  had  been  constantly  at  the  Ledge  re- 
ceiving the  big  cut  stones  for  the  masonry,  nine 
of  which  were  then  piled  up  on  the  Screamer's 
deck.  After  that  there  had  arisen  the  difficulty 
with  Carleton.     This  now  was  his  opportunity. 

The  men  on  the  sloop,  somehow,  knew  Caleb 
was  coming,  and  there  was  more  or  less  curi- 
osity to  see  him.  Nickles,  standing  inside  the 
galley  and  within  earshot,  had  probably  over- 
heard Sanford's  request. 

All  the  men  liked  the  old  diver.  His  cour- 
age, skill,  and  many  heroic  acts  above  and 
under  water  had  earned  their  respect,  while 
his  universal  kindness  and  cheeriness  had  won 
their  confidence.  The  calamity  that  had  over- 
taken him  had  been  discussed  and  re-discussed  ; 
and  while  many  hopes  were  indulged  in  regard- 
ing the  future  condition  of  Lacey's  soul  and 
the  present  state  of  his  eyes,  profane  hopes 
that  would  have  interfered  seriously  with  the 
eternal  happiness  of  the  first  and  the  seeing 
qualities  of  the  second,  and  while  numerous 
criticisms  were  as  freely  passed  upon  Betty, 
nothing  but  kindness  and  sympathy  was  felt 
for  Caleb. 

When  Caleb  came  up  over  the  sloop's  rail, 
followed  by  Captain  Joe,  it  was  easy  to  see  that 
all  was  right  between  him  and  the  captain.  One 
hearty  handshake  inside  the  cabin's  kitchen,  and 


A   SHANTY   DOOR  217 

a  frank  outspoken  "  I  'm  sorry,  Caleb  ;  don't  lay- 
it  up  agin  me,"  had  done  that.  When  Caleb 
spoke  to  the  men,  in  his  usual  gentle  manner, 
each  one  of  them  said  or  did  some  little  thing, 
as  chance  offered  an  unobtrusive  opportunity, 
that  conveyed  to  the  diver  a  heartfelt  sorrow 
for  his  troubles,  —  every  one  but  Carleton,  who 
purposely,  perhaps,  had  gone  down  into  the 
cabin,  his  temper  still  ruffled  over  his  encounter 
with  Captain  Joe  and  Sanford. 

And  so  Caleb  once  more  took  his  place  on 
the  working  force. 

As  the  Screamer  rounded  to  and  made  fast 
in  the  eddy,  the  Ledge  gang  were  engaged  in 
using  the  system  of  derricks,  which  since  the 
final  anchoring  had  never  needed  an  hour's 
additional  work.  They  were  moving  back  from 
the  landing-wharf  the  big  cut  stones  required 
to  lay  the  first  course  of  masonry,  the  work  to 
begin  as  soon  as  the  controversy  over  the 
proper  level  of  the  concrete  was  settled. 

With  the  making  fast  of  the  Screamer  to  the 
floating  buoys  in  the  eddy,  the  life-boat  from 
the  Ledge  pulled  alongside,  and  landed  Sanford, 
Carleton,  Captain  Joe,  Caleb,  and  the  skipper, 
—  Lonny  Bowles  carrying  the  transit  and  rod 
as  carefully  as  if  they  had  been  two  long  icicles. 
When  the  party  reached  the  Ledge  the  concrete 
was  found  to  be  awash  with  three  feet  of  water ; 
nothing  of  the  mass  itself  could  be  seen  by 
the  naked  eye.    It  was  therefore  apparent  that 


2i8        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

if  the  dispute  was  to  be  settled  it  could  be 
done  only  by  a  series  of  exact  measurements. 
Carleton  showed  every  evidence  of  satisfaction. 
He  had  begun  to  suspect  he  might  be  wrong, 
but  his  obstinacy  sustained  him.  Now  that 
the  disk  was  covered  with  water  there  was  still 
reason  for  dispute. 

Caleb  squeezed  himself  into  his  diving-dress, 
and  began  operations,  Captain  Joe  fastening 
the  water-tight  cuffs  over  his  wrists,  leaving 
his  hands  free.  The  diver  then  picked  up  the 
rod  with  its  adjustable  target  and  plunged 
across  the  shallow  basin,  the  water  coming  up 
to  his  hips.  Sanford  meanwhile  arranged  the 
tripod  on  the  platform,  leveled  his  instrument, 
directing  Caleb  where  to  hold  the  rod,  and  be- 
gan his  survey.  Captain  Joe  stood  one  side 
recording  his  findings  with  a  big  blue  lead  pen- 
cil on  a  short  strip  of  plank. 

The  first  entries  showed  that  the  two  seg- 
ments of  the  circle  —  the  opposite  segments, 
southeast  and  northwest — varied  barely  three 
tenths  of  an  inch  in  height.  This,  of  course, 
was  immaterial  over  so  large  a  surface.  The 
result  proved  conclusively  that  Carleton's  claim 
that  one  section  of  the  concrete  was  six  inches 
too  low  was  absurd. 

"  I  'm  afraid  I  shall  have  to  decide  against 
you  this  time,  Mr.  Carleton,"  said  Sanford 
pleasantly.  "  Run  your  eye  through  this  tran- 
sit ;  you  can  see  yourself  what  it  shows." 


A   SHANTY   DOOR  219 

"  Right  or  wrong,"  broke  out  Carleton,  now 
thoroughly  angry,  both  over  his  defeat  and  at 
the  half-concealed,  jeering  remarks  of  the  men, 
"  it 's  got  to  go  up  six  inches,  or  not  a  cut 
stone  will  be  laid.  That 's  what  I  'm  here  for, 
and  what  I  say  goes" 

"  But  please  take  the  transit  and  see  for 
yourself,  Mr.  Carleton,"  urged  Sanford. 

"  I  don't  know  nothin'  about  your  transit, 
nor  who  fixed  it  to  suit  you,"  snarled  Carleton. 

Sanford  bit  his  lip,  and  made  no  answer. 
There  were  more  important  things  to  be  done 
in  the  building  of  a  light  than  the  resenting 
of  such  insults  or  quarreling  with  a  superin- 
tendent. The  skipper,  however,  to  whom  the 
superintendent  was  a  first  experience,  and  who 
took  his  answer  as  in  some  way  a  reflection  on 
his  own  veracity,  walked  quickly  toward  him 
with  his  fist  tightly  clinched.  His  big  frame 
towered  over  Carleton's. 

"Thank  you,  Captain  Brandt,"  said  Sanford, 
noticing  the  skipper's  expression  and  intent. 
"  But  Mr.  Carleton  is  n't  in  earnest.  His  tran- 
sit is  not  here,  and  we  cannot  tell  who  fixed 
that." 

The  men  laughed,  and  the  skipper  stopped 
and  stood  aside,  awaiting  any  further  devel- 
opments that  might  require  his  aid. 

"  In  view  of  these  measurements,"  asked 
Sanford,  as  he  held  before  Carleton's  eyes  the 
piece  of  plank  bearing  Captain   Joe's  record, 


220        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

"do  you  still  order  the  six  inches  of  concrete 
put  in  ?" 

"  Certainly  I  do,"  said  Carleton.  His  ugly 
temper  was  gradually  being  hidden  under  an 
air  of  authority.  Sanford's  tact  had  regained 
him  a  debating  position. 

"  And  you  take  the  responsibility  of  the 
change  ? " 

"  I  do,"  replied  Carleton  in  a  blustering 
voice. 

"Then  please  put  that  order  in  writing," 
said  Sanford  quietly,  "  and  I  will  see  it  done 
as  soon  as  the  tide  lowers." 

Carleton's  manner  changed  ;  he  saw  the  pit 
that  lay  before  him.  If  he  were  wrong,  the 
written  order  would  fix  his  responsibility ; 
without  that  telltale  record  he  could  deny  af- 
terward having  given  the  order,  if  good  policy 
so  demanded. 

"  Well,  that  ain't  necessary  ;  you  go  ahead," 
said  Carleton,  with  less  vehemence. 

"  I  think  it  is,  Mr.  Carleton.  You  ask  me 
to  alter  a  bench-mark  level  which  I  know  to 
be  right,  and  which  every  man  about  us  knows 
to  be  right.  You  refuse  a  written  certificate 
if  I  do  not  carry  out  your  orders,  and  yet  you 
expect  me  to  commit  this  engineering  crime 
because  of  your  personal  opinion,  —  an  opinion 
which  you  now  refuse  to  back  up  by  your  sig- 
nature." 

"I  ain't  given  you  a  single  written   order 


A   SHANTY    DOOR  221 

this  season  :  why  should  I  now  ?  "  in  an  eva- 
sive tone. 

"  Because  up  to  this  time  you  have  asked 
for  nothing  unreasonable.     Then  you  refuse  ? " 

"  I  do,  and  I  'm  not  to  be  bulldozed,  neither." 

"  Caleb,"  said  Sanford,  with  the  air  of  a  man 
who  had  made  up  his  mind,  raising  his  voice  to 
the  diver,  still  standing  in  the  water,  "  put  that 
rod  on  the  edge  of  the  iron  band." 

Caleb  felt  around  under  the  water  with  his 
foot,  found  the  band,  and  placed  on  it  the  end 
of  the  rod.  Sanford  carefully  adjusted  the  in- 
strument. 

"  What  does  it  measure  ? " 

"  Thirteen  feet  six  inches,  sir ! "  shouted 
Caleb. 

"  Lonny  Bowles,"  continued  Sanford,  "take 
three  or  four  of  the  men  and  go  along  the 
breakwater  and  see  if  Caleb  is  right." 

The  men  scrambled  over  the  rocks,  Lonny 
plunging  into  the  water  beside  Caleb,  so  as  to 
get  closer  to  the  rod. 

"  Thirteen  feet  six  inches  ! "  came  back  the 
voices  of  Lonny  and  the  others,  speaking  suc- 
cessively. 

"  Now,  Captain  Joe,  look  through  this  eye- 
piece and  see  if  you  find  the  red  quartered  tar- 
get in  the  centre  of  the  spider-web  lines.  You, 
too,  skipper." 

The  men  put  their  eyes  to  the  glass,  each 
announcing  that  he  saw  the  red  of  the  disk. 


222        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

"  Now,  Caleb,  make  your  way  across  to  the 
northwest  derrick,  and  hold  the  rod  on  the 
band  there." 

The  old  diver  waded  across  the  concrete, 
and  held  the  rod  and  target  over  his  head. 
The  men  followed  him  around  the  breakwater, 

—  all  except  Bowles,  who,  being  as  wet  as  he 
could  be,  plunged  in  waist-deep. 

Sanford  turned  the  transit  without  disturb- 
ing the  tripod,  and  adjusted  it  until  the  lens 
covered  the  target. 

"  Raise  it  a  little,  Caleb  !  "  shouted  Sanford, 

—  "  so  !     What  is  she  now  ? " 

"  Thirteen  feet  six  inches  and  —  a  —  half ! " 

"  Right !     How  is  it,  men  ? " 

"  Thirteen  six  and  a  half  !  "  came  back  the 
replies,  after  each  man  had  assured  himself. 

"  Now  bring  me  a  clean,  dry  plank,  Captain 
Joe,"  said  Sanford.  "  That 's  too  small,"  as 
the  captain  held  out  the  short  piece  containing 
the  record.  Clean  planks  were  scarce  on  the 
cement-stained  work ;  dry  ones  were  never 
found. 

Everybody  went  in  search  of  a  suitable 
plank.  Carleton  looked  on  at  this  pantomime 
with  a  curl  on  his  lips,  and  now  and  then  a 
little  shiver  of  uncertain  fear  creeping  over 
him.  Sanford's  quiet,  determined  manner  puz- 
zled him. 

"  What 's  all  this  circus  about  ? "  he  broke 
out  impatiently. 


A   SHANTY    DOOR  223 

"One  minute,  Mr.  Carleton.  I  want  to 
make  a  record  which  will  be  big  enough  for 
the  men  to  sign ;  one  that  won't  get  astray, 
lost,  or  stolen." 

"  What 's  the  matter  with  this  ?  "  asked 
Captain  Joe,  opening  the  wooden  door  of  the 
new  part  of  the  shanty.  "  Ye  can't  lose  this 
'less  ye  take  away  the  house." 

"  That  's  the  very  thing !  "  exclaimed  San- 
ford.  "  Swing  her  wide  open,  Captain  Joe. 
Please  give  me  that  big  blue  pencil." 

When  the  door  flew  back  it  was  as  white 
and  clean  as  a  freshly  scrubbed  pine  table. 

Sanf ord  wrote  as  follows  :  — 

August  29,  Shark  Ledge  Light. 
We,  the  undersigned,  certify  that  the  con- 
crete disk  is  perfectly  level  except  opposite  the 
northwest  derrick,  where  it  is  three  tenths 
of  an  inch  too  high.  We  further  certify  that 
Superintendent  Carleton  orders  the  concrete 
raised  six  inches  on  the  southeast  segment, 
and  refuses  to  permit  any  cut  stone  to  be 
set  until  this  is  done. 

Henry  Sanford,  Contractor. 

"  Come,  Captain  Joe,"  said  Sanford,  "  put 
your  signature  under  mine." 

The  captain  held  the  pencil  in  his  bent  fin- 
gers as  if  it  had  been  a  chisel,  and  inscribed 
his  full  name,  "Joseph   Bell,"  under  that  of 


224        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

Sanford.  Then  Caleb  and  the  others  fol- 
lowed, the  diver  fumbling  inside  his  dress  for 
his  glasses,  the  search  proving  fruitless  until 
Captain  Joe  ran  his  arm  down  between  the 
rubber  collar  of  the  diving-dress  and  Caleb's 
red  shirt  and  drew  them  up  from  inside  his 
undershirt. 

"Now,  Captain  Joe,"  said  Sanford,  "you 
can  send  a  gang  in  the  morning  at  low  water 
and  raise  that  concrete.  It  will  throw  the 
upper  masonry  out  of  level,  but  it  won't  make 
much  difference  in  a  circle  of  this  size." 

The  men  gave  a  cheer,  the  humor  of  the 
situation  taking  possession  of  everyone.  Even 
Caleb  forgot  his  sorrow  for  a  moment.  Carle- 
ton  laughed  a  little  halting  laugh  himself,  but 
there  was  nothing  of  spontaneity  in  it.  Nickles, 
the  cook,  who,  now  that  the  cut  stone  was 
about  to  be  laid,  was  permanently  transferred 
from  the  Screamer  to  the  shanty,  and  under 
whose  especial  care  this  door  was  placed  by 
reason  of  its  position,  —  it  opened  into  the 
kitchen,  —  planted  his  fat,  oily  body  before  the 
curious  record,  read  it  slowly  word  for  word, 
and  delivered  himself  of  this  opinion  :  "  That 
'ere  door  's  th'  biggest  receipt  for  stores  I  ever 
see  come  into  a  kitchen." 

"  Big  or  little,"  said  Captain  Joe,  who  could 
not  see  the  drift  of  most  of  Nickles's  jokes, 
"  you  spatter  it  with  yer  grease  or  spile  it  any, 
and  ye  go  ashore." 


CHAPTER    XIV 

TWO    ENVELOPES 

Betty's  flight  had  been  of  such  short  dura- 
tion, and  her  return  home  accomplished  under 
such  peculiar  circumstances,  that  the  stories 
in  regard  to  her  elopement  had  multiplied  with 
the  hours.  One  feature  of  her  escapade  ex- 
cited universal  comment,  —  her  spending  the 
night  at  Mrs.  Leroy's.  The  only  explanation 
that  could  be  given  of  this  extraordinary  ex- 
perience was  that  so  high  a  personage  as  Mrs. 
Leroy  must  have  necessarily  been  greatly  im- 
posed upon  by  Betty,  or  she  could  never  have 
disgraced  herself  and  her  home  by  giving 
shelter  to  such  a  woman. 

Mrs.  Leroy's  hospitality  to  Betty  inspired 
another  theory,  —  one  that,  not  being  contra- 
dicted at  the  moment  of  its  origin  by  Aunty 
Bell,  had  seemed  plausible.  Miss  Peebles,  the 
schoolmistress,  who  never  believed  ill  of  any- 
body, lent  all  her  aid  to  its  circulation.  The 
conversation  out  of  which  the  theory  grew 
took  place  in  Aunty  Bell's  kitchen.  Betty  was 
upstairs  in  her  room,  and  the  talk  went  on  in 
lowered  tones,  lest  she  should  overhear. 


226        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

"  I  never  shall  believe  that  a  woman  holding 
Mrs.  Leroy's  position  would  take  Betty  West 
into  her  house  if  she  knew  what  kind  of  a 
woman  she  was,"  remarked  the  elder  Miss 
Nevins. 

"  And  that  makes  me  think  there  's  some 
mistake  about  this  whole  thing,"  said  Miss 
Peebles.  "  Who  saw  her  with  Lacey,  anyhow  ? 
Nobody  but  the  butcher,  and  he  don't  know 
half  the  time  what  he  's  talking  about,  he  rat- 
tles on  so.  Maybe  she  never  went  with  Lacey 
at  all." 

"What  did  she  go  'way  for,  then  ?"  asked 
the  younger  Nevins  girl,  who  was  on  her  way 
to  the  store,  and  had  stopped  in,  hoping  she 
might,  by  chance,  get  a  look  at  Betty.  "  I 
guess  Lacey's  money  was  all  gone  —  that  's 
why  she  imposed  on  Mrs.  Leroy." 

"  I  don't  believe  it,"  said  Miss  Peebles. 
"  Betty  may  have  been  foolish,  but  she  never 
told  a  lie  in  her  life." 

"Well,  it  may  be,"  admitted  the  younger 
sister  in  a  softened  tone.  "I  hope  so,  any- 
how." 

Aunty  Bell  kept  still.  Betty  was  having 
trouble  enough  ;  if  the  neighbors  thought  her 
innocent,  and  would  give  her  the  benefit  of  the 
doubt,  better  leave  it  so.  There  were  one  or 
two  threads  of  worldly  wisdom  and  canny  policy 
twisted  about  the  little  woman's  heart  which 
now  and  then  showed  their  ends. 


TWO    ENVELOPES  227 

Captain  Joe  was  in  the  sitting-room,  reading. 
He  had  come  in  from  the  Ledge,  wet,  as  usual, 
had  put  on  some  dry  clothes,  and  while  wait- 
ing for  supper  had  picked  up  the  "Noank 
Times."  Aunty  Bell  and  the  others  saw  him 
come  in,  but  thought  he  had  changed  his 
clothes  and  had  gone  to  the  dock. 

He  had  overheard  every  word  of  the  discus- 
sion. There  were  no  raveled  threads  in  the 
captain's  make-up.  He  threw  down  his  paper, 
pushed  his  way  into  the  group,  and  said  :  — 

"  There 's  one  thing  I  don't  want  no  mistake 
over,  and  I  won't  have  it.  Betty  did  n't  tell  no 
lies  to  Mrs.  Leroy  nor  to  nobody  else,  an'  I 
ain't  a-goin'  to  have  nobody  lie  for  'er.  Mrs. 
Leroy  knows  all  about  it.  She  took  care  of 
her  'cause  she 's  got  a  heart  inside  of  her. 
Betty  went  off  with  Bill  Lacey  'cause  he  'd 
hoodooed  'er,  an'  when  she  come  to  herself  she 
come  home  agin  :  that 's  all  ther'  is  to  that. 
She's  sorry  for  what  she's  done,  an'  ther'  ain't 
nobody  outside  o'  heaven  can  do  more.  She  's 
goin'  to  stay  here  'cause  me  and  Aunty  Bell 
love  her  now  more  'n  we  ever  did  before.  But 
she  's  goin'  to  start  life  agin  fair  an'  square, 
with  no  lies  of  her  own  an'  no  lies  told  about 
'er  by  nobody  else."  The  captain  looked  at 
Aunty  Bell.  "Them  that  don't  like  it  can 
lump  it.  Them  as  don't  like  Betty  after  this 
can  stay  away  from  me,"  and  he  turned  about 
on  his  heel  and  went  down  to  the  dock. 


228        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

Two  currents  had  thus  been  started  in 
Betty's  favor :  one  the  outspoken  indorsement 
of  Captain  Joe  ;  and  the  other  the  protection 
of  Mrs.  Leroy,  "the  rich  lady  who  lived  at 
Medford,  in  that  big  country-seat  where  the 
railroad  crossed,  and  who  had  the  yacht  and 
horses,  and  who  must  be  a  good  woman,  or 
she  would  n't  have  come  to  nurse  the  men, 
or  sent  them  delicacies,  and  who  came  herself 
to  put  up  the  mosquito-nets  over  their  cots." 

As  the  August  days  slipped  by  and  the  early 
autumn  came,  the  gossip  gradually  died.  Caleb 
continued  to  live  alone,  picking  up  once  more 
the  manner  of  life  he  had  practiced  for  years 
aboard  the  light-ship  :  having  a  day  every  two 
weeks  for  his  washing,  —  always  Sunday,  when 
the  neighbors  would  see  him  while  on  their  way 
to  church,  —  hanging  out  his  red  and  white 
collection  on  the  line  stretched  in  the  garden. 
He  cooked  his  meals  and  cleaned  the  house 
himself.  Nobody  but  Captain  Joe  and  Aunty 
Bell  crossed  his  threshold,  except  the  butcher 
who  brought  him  his  weekly  supplies.  He 
had  been  but  seldom  to  the  village  in  the  day- 
time, —  somehow  he  did  not  like  to  pass  Cap- 
tain Joe's  when  any  one  could  see  him,  —  and 
had  confined  his  outings  to  going  from  the 
cabin  to  the  Ledge  and  back  again  as  his  duties 
required,  locking  the  rear  door  and  hanging 
the  key  on  a  nail  beside  it  until  his  return. 

He  had  seen  Betty  only  once,  and  that  was 


TWO    ENVELOPES  229 

when  he  had  passed  her  on  the  road.  He  came 
upon  her  suddenly,  and  he  thought  she  started 
back  as  if  to  avoid  him,  but  he  kept  his  eyes 
turned  away  and  passed  on.  When  he  reached 
the  hill  and  looked  back  he  could  see  her  sit- 
ting by  the  side  of  the  road,  a  few  rods  from 
where  they  met,  her  head  resting  on  her  hand. 

Only  one  man  had  dared  to  speak  to  him  in 
an  unsympathetic  way  about  Betty's  desertion, 
and  that  was  his  old  friend  Tony  Marvin,  the 
keeper  of  Keyport  Light.  They  had  been  to- 
gether a  year  on  Bannock  Rip  during  the  time 
the  Department  had  doubled  up  the  keepers. 
He  had  not  heard  of  Caleb's  trouble  until  sev- 
eral weeks  after  Betty's  flight ;  lighthouse-keep- 
ers staying  pretty  close  indoors. 

"  I  hearn,  Caleb,  that  the  new  wife  left  ye 
for  that  young  rigger  what  got  his  face  smashed. 
'Most  too  young,  warn't  she,  to  be  stiddy  ? " 

"  No,  I  ain't  never  thought  so,"  replied  Caleb 
quietly.  "  Were  n't  no  better  gal  'n  Betty  ;  she 
done  all  she  knowed  how.  You  'd  'a'  said  so  if 
ye  knowed  her  like  I  did.  But 't  was  agin  natur', 
I  bein'  so  much  older.  But  I  'd  rather  had  her 
go  than  suffer  on." 

"  Served  ye  durn  mean,  anyhow,"  said  the 
keeper.     "  Did  she  take  anything  with  'er  ?  " 

"Nothin'  but  the  clo'es  she  stood  in.  But 
she  did  n't  serve  me  mean,  Tony.  I  don't  want 
ye  to  think  so,  an'  I  don't  want  ye  to  say  so, 
nor  let  nobody  say  so,  neither;  an'  ye  won't 


230        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

if  you  're  a  friend  o'  mine,  which  you  allers 
was." 

"  I  hearn  there  was  some  talk  o'  yer  takin' 
her  back,"  the  keeper  went  on  in  a  gentler  tone, 
surprised  at  Caleb's  blindness,  and  anxious  to 
restore  his  good  feeling.     "  Is  that  so  ? " 

"No,  that  ain't  so,"  Caleb  answered  firmly, 
ending  the  conversation  on  that  topic  and  lead- 
ing it  into  other  channels. 

This  interview  of  the  light-keeper's  was  soon 
public  property.  Some  of  those  who  heard  of 
it  set  Caleb  down  as  half-witted  over  his  loss, 
and  others  wondered  how  long  it  would  be  be- 
fore he  would  send  for  Betty  and  patch  it  all 
up  again,  and  still  others  questioned  why  he 
did  n't  go  over  to  Stonington  and  smash  the 
other  side  of  Lacey's  face ;  they  heard  that 
Billy  had  been  seen  around  there. 

As  for  Betty,  she  had  found  work  with  a 
milliner  on  the  edge  of  the  village,  within  a 
mile  of  Captain  Joe's  cottage,  where  her  taste 
in  trimming  bonnets  secured  her  ready  employ- 
ment, and  where  her  past  was  not  discussed. 
That  she  was  then  living  with  Captain  Joe  and 
his  wife  was  enough  to  gain  her  admission. 

There  had  been  days,  however,  after  her 
return,  when  she  would  have  given  way  under 
the  strain,  had  it  not  been  for  her  remembered 
promise  to  Mrs.  Leroy,  —  the  only  woman,  ex- 
cept Aunty  Bell,  who  had  befriended  her, — 
and  for  the  strong  supporting  arm  of  Captain 


TWO   ENVELOPES  231 

Joe,  who  never  lost  an  opportunity  to  show  his 
confidence  in  her. 

And  yet  in  spite  of  these  promises  and  sup- 
ports she  could  have  plunged  into  the  water 
many  a  time  at  the  end  of  the  dock  and  ended 
it  all.  She  would  sit  for  hours  in  her  little 
room  next  Aunty  Bell's,  on  Saturday  afternoons, 
when  she  came  earlier  from  work,  and  watch 
for  the  Screamer  or  one  of  the  tugs  to  round 
in,  bringing  Caleb  and  the  men.  She  could 
not  see  her  own  cottage  from  the  window  where 
she  sat,  but  she  could  see  her  husband  come 
down  the  sloop's  side  and  board  the  little  boat 
that  brought  him  to  his  landing.  She  would 
often  think  that  she  could  catch  his  good-night 
as  he  pushed  off.  On  Monday  mornings,  too, 
when  she  knew  he  was  going  out,  she  was  up 
at  daylight,  watching  for  a  meagre  glimpse  of 
him  when  the  skiff  shot  out  from  behind  the 
dock  and  took  him  aboard  to  go  to  his  work  on 
the  Ledge. 

Little  by  little  the  captain's  devotion  to 
Betty's  interests,  and  the  outspoken  way  in 
which  he  praised  her  efforts  to  maintain  her- 
self, began  to  have  their  effect.  People  who 
had  passed  her  by  without  a  word,  as  they  met 
her  on  the  road,  volunteered  a  timid  good-morn- 
ing, which  was  answered  by  a  slight  nod  of  the 
head  by  Betty.  Even  one  of  the  Nevins  girls 
' —  the  younger  one  —  had  joined  her  and 
walked  as  far  as  the  milliner's,  with  a  last  word 


232        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

on  the  doorstep,  which  had  detained  them  both 
for  at  least  two  minutes  in  full  sight  of  the 
other  girls  who  were  passing  the  shop. 

Betty  met  all  advances  kindly,  but  with  a 
certain  reserve  of  manner.  She  appreciated 
the  good  motive,  but  in  her  own  eyes  it  did 
not  palliate  her  fault,  —  that  horrible  crime  of 
ingratitude,  selfishness,  and  waywardness,  the 
memory  of  which  hung  over  her  night  and  day 
like  a  pall. 

Most  of  her  former  acquaintances  respected 
her  reserve,  —  all  except  Carleton.  Whenever 
he  met  her  under  Captain  Joe's  roof  he  greeted 
her  with  a  nod,  but  on  the  road  he  had  more 
than  once  tried  to  stop  and  talk  to  her.  At 
first  the  attempt  had  been  made  with  a  lifting 
of  the  hat  and  a  word  about  the  weather,  but 
the  last  time  he  had  stopped  in  front  of  her 
and  tried  to  take  her  hand. 

"  What 's  the  matter  with  you  ?  "  he  said  in 
a  coaxing  tone.     "I  ain't  going  to  hurt  you." 

Betty  darted  by  him,  and  reached  the  shop 
all  out  of  breath.  She  said  nothing  to  any 
one  about  her  encounter,  not  being  afraid  of 
him  in  the  daytime,  and  not  wanting  her  affairs 
talked  of  any  more. 

If  Caleb  knew  how  Betty  lived,  he  never 
mentioned  it  to  Captain  Joe  or  Aunty  Bell. 
He  would  sometimes  ask  after  her  health  and 
whether  she  was  working  too  hard,  but  never 
more  than  that. 


TWO   ENVELOPES  233 

One  Saturday  night  —  it  was  the  week 
Betty  had  hurt  her  foot  and  could  not  go  to 
the  shop  —  Caleb  came  down  to  Captain  Joe's 
and  called  him  outside  the  kitchen  door.  It 
was  pay-day  with  the  men,  and  Caleb  had  in 
his  hand  the  little  envelope,  still  unopened, 
containing  his  month's  pay.  The  lonely  life 
he  led  had  begun  to  tell  upon  the  diver.  The 
deathly  pallor  that  had  marked  his  face  the 
first  few  days  after  his  wife's  departure  was 
gone,  and  the  skin  was  no  longer  shrunken, 
but  the  sunken  cheeks  remained,  and  the  rest- 
less, eager  look  in  the  eyes  that  told  of  his 
mental  strain. 

Caleb  was  in  his  tarpaulins ;  it  was  raining 
at  the  time. 

"  Come  in,  Caleb,  come  in  !  "  cried  Captain 
Joe  in  a  cheery  voice,  laying  his  hand  on  the 
diver's  shoulder.  "Take  off  yer  ileskins." 
The  captain  never  despaired  of  bringing  hus- 
band and  wife  together,  somehow. 

Betty  was  sitting  inside  the  kitchen,  reading 
by  the  kerosene  lamp,  out  of  sound  of  the 
voices. 

"  No,  I  ain't  washed  up  nor  had  supper  yit, 
thank  ye.  I  heared  from  Aunty  Bell  that 
Betty  was  laid  up  this  week,  an'  so  I  come 
down."  Here  Caleb  stopped,  and  began  slit- 
ting the  pay-envelope  with  a  great  thumb-nail 
shaped  like  a  half-worn  shoe-horn.  "  I  come 
down,  thinkin'  maybe  you  'd  kind'er  put  this 


234        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

where  she  could  git  it,"  slowly  unrolling  two  of 
the  four  bills  and  handing  them  to  the  captain. 
"  I  don't  like  her  to  be  beholden  to  ye  for  board 
nor  nothin'." 

"  Ye  can't  give  me  a  cent,  Caleb.  I  knowed 
her  'fore  you  did,"  said  the  captain,  protesting 
with  his  hand  upraised,  a  slightly  indignant 
tone  in  his  voice.  Then  a  thought  crept  into 
his  mind.  "  Come  in  and  give  it  to  her  yer- 
self,  Caleb,"  putting  his  arm  through  the 
diver's. 

"  No,"  said  Caleb  slowly,  "  I  ain't  come 
here  for  that,  and  I  don't  want  ye  to  make  no 
mistake,  cap'n.  I  come  here  'cause  I  been 
a-thinkin'  it  over,  and  somehow  it  seems  to 
me  that  half  o'  this  is  hern.  I  don't  want  ye 
to  tell  'er  that  I  give  it  to  her,  'cause  it  ain't 
so.  I  jes'  want  ye  to  lay  it  som'eres  she  '11 
find  it ;  and  when  she  asks  about  it,  say  it 's 
hern." 

Captain  Joe  crumpled  the  bills  in  his  hand. 

"Caleb,"  he  said,  "I  ain't  goin'  to  say 
nothin'  more  to  ye.  I  've  said  all  I  could,  and 
las'  time  I  said  too  much ;  but  what  seems  to 
me  to  be  the  cussedest  foolishness  out  is  for 
ye  to  go  back  an'  git  yer  supper  by  yerself, 
when  the  best  little  gal  you  or  I  know  is 
a-settin'  within  ten  feet  o'  ye  with  her  heart 
breakin'  to  git  to  ye." 

"  I  'm  sorry  she 's  sufferin',  Cap'n  Joe.  I 
don't   like    to    see   nobody   suffer,    leastways 


TWO   ENVELOPES  235 

Betty,  but  ye  don't  know  it  all.  Jes'  leave 
them  bills  as  I  asked  ye.  Tell  Aunty  Bell  I 
got  the  pie  she  sent  me  when  I  come  home,  — 
I  '11  eat  it  to-morrow.  I  s'pose  ye  ain't  got  no 
new  orders  'bout  that  last  row  of  enrockment  ? 
I  set  the  bottom  stone  to-day,  an'  I  ought'er 
get  the  last  of  'em  finished  nex'  week.  The 
tide  cut  tumble  to-day,  an'  my  air  comin'  so 
slow  through  the  pump  threw  me  'mong  the 
rocks  an'  seaweed,  an'  I  got  a  scrape  on  my 
hand,"  showing  a  deep  cut  on  its  back  ;  "  but 
it 's  done  hurtin'  now.     Good-night." 

On  his  way  home,  just  before  he  reached 
his  cabin,  Caleb  came  upon  Bert  Simmons,  the 
shore  road  letter-carrier,  standing  in  the  road, 
under  one  of  the  village  street  lamps,  overhaul- 
ing his  package  of  letters. 

"  About  these  letters  that 's  comin'  for  yer 
wife,  Caleb  ?  Shall  I  leave  'em  with  you  or 
take  'em  down  to  Cap'n  Joe  Bell's  ?  I  give 
the  others  to  her.     Here  's  one  now." 

Caleb  took  the  letter  mechanically,  looked 
it  over  slowly,  noted  its  Stonington  postmark, 
and,  handing  it  back,  answered  calmly,  "  Better 
leave  'em  down  to  Cap'n  Joe's,  Bert." 


CHAPTER  XV 

A    NARROW    PATH 

When  Sanford,  after  dining,  rang  her  bell, 
Mrs.  Leroy  was  seated  on  the  veranda  that 
overlooked  the  garden, — a  wide  and  inviting 
veranda,  always  carpeted  in  summer  with  mats 
and  rugs,  and  made  comfortable  with  cane 
chairs  and  straw  divans  that  were  softened  into 
luxurious  delights  by  silk  cushions.  During 
the  day  the  sunshine  filtered  its  way  between  the 
thickly  matted  vines,  lying  in  patterns  on  the 
floor,  or  was  held  in  check  by  thin  Venetian 
blinds.  At  night  the  light  of  a  huge  eight- 
sided  lantern  festooned  with  tassels  shed  its 
glow  through  screens  of  colored  gauze. 

Mrs.  Leroy  was  dressed  in  a  simple  gown  of 
white  crepe,  which  clung  and  wrinkled  about 
her  slight  figure,  leaving  her  neck  and  arms 
bare.  On  a  low  table  beside  her  rested  a  silver 
tray  with  a  slender-shaped  coffee-pot  and  tiny 
egg-shell  cups  and  saucers. 

She  looked  up  at  him,  smiling,  as  he  pushed 
aside  the  curtains.  "  Two  lumps,  Henry  ?  "  she 
called,  holding  the  sugar-tongs  in  her  hand. 
Then,  as  the  light  of  the  lantern  fell  upon  his 


A   NARROW   PATH  237 

face,  she  exclaimed,  "  Why,  what 's  the  matter  ? 
You  are  worried  :  is  there  fresh  trouble  at  the 
Ledge  ? "  and  she  rose  from  her  chair. 

"  No ;  only  Carleton,"  he  replied,  looking  down 
at  her.  "  He  holds  on  to  that  certificate,  and 
I  can  get  no  money  until  he  gives  it  up  ;  yet  I 
have  raised  the  concrete  six  inches  to  please 
him.  I  wired  Captain  Joe  yesterday  to  see  him 
at  once  and  to  get  his  answer,  —  yes  or  no. 
What  do  you  suppose  he  replied  ?  '  Tell  him 
he  don't  own  the  earth.  1 11  sign  it  when  I 
get  to  it.'  Not  another  word,  nor  would  he 
give  any  reason  for  not  signing  it." 

"  Why  don't  you  appeal  to  the  Board  ?  Gen- 
eral Barton  would  not  see  you  suffer  an  unjust 
delay.  I  '11  write  him  myself,"  she  said,  sitting 
bolt  upright  on  the  divan. 

Sanford  smiled.  Her  rising  anger  soothed 
him  as  flattery  might  have  done  at  another  time. 
He  felt  in  it  a  proof  of  how  close  to  her  heart 
she  really  held  his  interests  and  his  happiness. 

"That  would  only  prolong  the  agony,  and 
might  lose  us  the  season's  work.  The  Board  is 
always  fair  and  honest,  only  it  takes  so  long  for 
it  to  move."  As  he  spoke  he  piled  the  cush- 
ions high  behind  her  head,  and  drew  a  low 
chair  opposite  to  her.  "  It 's  torture  to  a  con- 
tractor who  is  behind  time,"  he  continued,  fleck- 
ing the  ashes  of  his  cigar  into  his  saucer.  "  It 
means  getting  all  tangled  up  in  the  red  tape 
of  a  government  bureau.     I  must  give  up  my 


238        CALEB   WEST,    MASTER   DIVER 

holiday  and  find  Carleton  ;  there  is  nothing  else 
to  be  done  now.  I  leave  on  the  early  train 
to-morrow.  But  what  a  rest  this  is ! "  he  ex- 
claimed, breaking  into  the  strained  impetuosity 
of  his  own  tones  with  a  long-drawn  sigh  of 
relief,  as  he  looked  about  the  dimly  lighted 
veranda.     "Nothing  like  it  anywhere." 

As  he  spoke  his  eyes  wandered  over  her 
dainty  figure,  half  reclining  before  him,  —  the 
delicately  modeled  waist,  the  shapely  wrists,  and 
the  tiny  slippers  peeping  beneath  the  edge  of 
her  dress  that  fell  in  folds  to  the  floor.  "  An- 
other new  gown,  I  see  ?  " 

"  Never  mind  about  my  gown.  I  want  to  hear 
more  about  this  man  Carleton,"  she  said.  Her 
face  was  alight  with  the  pleasure  of  his  tribute, 
but  she  spoke  as  though  she  had  hardly  heard 
it.  "  What  have  you  done  to  him  to  make  him 
hate  you  ? " 

"  Nothing  but  try  to  keep  him  from  ruining 
the  work." 

"  And  you  told  him  he  was  ruining  it  ? " 

"  Certainly  ;  there  was  nothing  else  to  do. 
He's  got  the  concrete  now  six  inches  out  of 
level ;  you  can  see  it  plainly  at  low  water." 

"  No  wonder  he  takes  his  revenge,"  she  said, 
cutting  straight  into  dfe  heart  of  the  matter 
with  that  marvelous  power  peculiar  to  some 
women.  "What  else  has  gone  wrong?"  She 
meant  him  to  tell  her  everything,  knowing  that 
to  let  him  completely  unburden  his  mind  would 


A   NARROW   PATH  239 

give  him  the  only  real  rest  that  he  needed. 
She  liked,  too,  to  feel  her  influence  over  him. 
That  he  always  consulted  her  in  such  matters 
was  to  Kate  one  of  the  keenest  pleasures  that 
his  friendship  brought. 

"Everything,  I  sometimes  think.  We  are 
very  much  behind.  That  concrete  base  should 
have  been  finished  two  weeks  ago.  The  equi- 
noctial gale  is  nearly  due.  If  we  can't  get  the 
first  two  courses  of  masonry  laid  by  the  middle 
of  November,  I  may  have  to  wait  until  spring 
for  another  payment,  and  that  about  means 
bankruptcy." 

"What  does  Captain  Joe  think  ?  " 

"He  says  we  shall  pull  through  if  we  have 
no  more  setbacks.  Dear  old  Captain  Joe !  no- 
thing upsets  him.  We  certainly  have  had  our 
share  of  them  this  season :  first  it  was  the  explo- 
sion, and  now  it  is  Carleton's  spite." 

"  Suppose  you  do  lose  time,  Henry,  and  do 
have  to  wait  until  spring  to  go  on  with  the 
work.  It  will  not  be  for  the  first  time."  There 
was  a  sympathetic  yet  hopeful  tone  in  her  voice. 
"  When  you  sunk  the  coffer-dam  at  Kingston, 
three  years  ago,  and  it  lay  all  winter  in  the  ice, 
did  n't  you  worry  yourself  half  sick  ?  And  yet 
it  all  came  out  right.^Oh,  you  needn't  raise 
your  eyebrows  ;  I  saw  it  myself.  You  know 
you  are  better  equipped  now,  both  in  experi- 
ence and  in  means,  than  you  were  then.  Make 
some  allowance  for  your  own  temperament,  and 


240        CALEB   WEST,    MASTER   DIVER 

please  don't  forget  the  nights  you  have  lain 
awake  worrying  over  nothing.  It  will  all  come 
out  right."  She  leaned  toward  him  and  laid 
her  hand  on  his,  as  an  elder  sister  might  have 
done,  and  in  a  gayer  tone  added,  "I'm  going 
to  Medford  soon,  myself,  and  I  '11  invite  this 
dreadful  Mr.  Carleton  to  come  over  to  luncheon, 
and  you  '11  get  your  certificate  next  day.  What 
does  he  look  like  ?  " 

Sanford  broke  into  a  laugh.  "  You  would  n't 
touch  him  with  a  pair  of  tongs,  and  I  would  n't 
let  you,  —  even  with  them." 

"Then  I  '11  do  it,  anyway,  just  to  show  you 
how  clever  I  am,"  she  retorted,  with  a  pretty, 
bridling  toss  of  her  head.  She  had  taken  her 
hand  away.    Sanford  still  held  his  own  extended. 

Kate's  tact  was  having  its  effect.  Under  the 
magic  of  her  sympathy  his  cares  had  folded 
their  tents.  Carleton  was  fast  becoming  a  dim 
speck  on  the  horizon,  and  his  successive  trou- 
bles were  but  a  string  of  camels  edging  the 
blue  distance  of  his  thoughts. 

It  was  always  like  this.  She  never  failed  to 
comfort  and  inspire  him.  Whenever  his  anxie- 
ties became  unbearable  it  was  to  Kate  that  he 
turned,  as  he  had  done  to-night.  The  very 
touch  of  her  soft  hand,  so  white  and  delicate, 
laid  upon  his  arm,  and;  tfie  exquisite  play  of 
melody  in  her  voice,  soothed  and  strengthened 
him.  Things  were  never  half  so  bad  as  they 
seemed,  when  he  could  see  her  look  at  him  mis- 


A   NARROW   PATH  241 

chievously  from  under  her  lowered  eyelids  as 
she  said,  "Mercy,  Henry!  is  that  all  ?  I  thought 
the  whole  lighthouse  had  been  washed  away." 
And  he  never  missed  the  inspiration  of  the 
change  that  followed,  —  the  sudden  quiet  of 
her  face,  the  very  tensity  of  her  figure,  as  she 
added  in  earnest  tones,  instinct  with  courage 
and  sympathy,  some  word  of  hopeful  interest 
that  she  of  all  women  best  knew  how  to  give. 

With  the  anxieties  dispelled  which  had 
brought  him  hurrying  to-night  to  Gramercy 
Park,  they  both  relapsed  into  silence, — a  silence 
such  as  was  common  to  their  friendship,  one 
which  was  born  neither  of  ennui  nor  of  dis- 
content, the  boredom  of  friends  nor  the  pov- 
erty of  meagre  minds,  but  that  restful  silence 
which  comes  only  to  two  minds  and  hearts  in 
entire  accord,  without  the  necessity  of  a  single 
spoken  word  to  lead  their  thoughts;  a  close, 
noiseless  fitting  together  of  two  temperaments, 
with  all  the  rough  surfaces  of  their  natures 
worn  smooth  by  long  association  each  with  the 
other.  In  such  accord  is  found  the  strongest 
proof  of  true  and  perfect  friendship.  It  is  only 
when  this  estate  no  longer  satisfies,  and  one  or 
both  crave  the  human  touch,  that  the  danger- 
line  is  crossed.  When  stealthy  fingers  set  the 
currents  of  both  hearts  free,  and  the  touch  be- 
comes electric,  discredited  friendship  escapes  by 
the  window,  and  triumphant  love  enters  by  the 
door. 


242        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

The  lantern  shed  its  rays  over  Kate's  white 
draperies,  warming  them  with  a  pink  glow. 
The  smoke  of  Sanford's  cigar  curled  upward 
in  the  still  air  and  drifted  out  into  the  garden, 
or  was  lost  in  the  vines  of  the  jessamine  trail- 
ing about  the  porch.  Now  and  then  the  still- 
ness was  broken  by  some  irrelevant  remark 
suggested  by  the  perfume  of  the  flowers,  the 
quiet  of  the  night,  the  memory  of  Jack's  and 
Helen's  happiness ;  but  silence  always  fell 
again,  except  for  an  occasional  light  tattoo  of 
Kate's  dainty  slipper  on  the  floor.  A  restful 
lassitude,  the  reaction  from  the  constant  hourly 
strain  of  his  work,  came  over  Sanford  ;  the  world 
of  perplexity  seemed  shut  away,  and  he  was 
happier  than  he  had  been  in  weeks.  Suddenly 
and  without  preliminary  question,  Mrs.  Leroy 
asked  sharply,  with  a  strange,  quivering  break 
in  her  voice,  "  What  about  that  poor  girl  Betty  ? 
Has  she  patched  it  up  yet  with  Caleb  ?  She 
told  me,  the  night  she  stayed  with  me,  that  she 
loved  him  dearly.  Poor  girl !  she  has  nothing 
but  misery  ahead  of  her  if  she  does  n't."  She 
spoke  with  a  certain  tone  in .  her  voice  that 
showed  but  too  plainly  the  new  mood  that  had 
taken  possession  of  her. 

"Pity  she  didn't  find  it  out  before  she  left 
him  !  "  exclaimed  Sanford. 

"  Pity  he  did  n't  do  something  to  show  his 
appreciation  of  her,  you  mean ! "  she  inter- 
rupted, with  a  quick  toss  of  her  head. 


A   NARROW   PATH  243 

"  You  are  all  wrong,  Kate.  Caleb  is  the  gen- 
tlest and  kindest  of  men.  You  don't  know  that 
old  diver,  or  you  wouldn't  judge  him  harshly." 

"Oh,  he  didn't  beat  her,  I  suppose.  He 
only  left  her  to  get  along  by  herself.  I  wish 
such  men  would  take  it  out  in  beating.  Some 
women  could  stand  that  better.  It 's  the  cold 
indifference  that  kills."  She  had  risen  from  her 
seat,  and  was  pacing  the  floor  of  the  veranda. 

"Well,  that  was  not  his  fault,  Kate.  While 
the  working  season  lasts  he  must  be  on  the 
Ledge.     He  couldn't  come  in  every  night." 

"That 's  what  they  all  say  !  If  it 's  not  one 
excuse,  it 's  another.  I  'm  tired  to  death  of  hear- 
ing about  men  who  would  rather  make  money 
than  make  homes.  Now  that  he  has  driven  her 
out  of  her  wits  by  his  brutality,  he  closes  his 
door  against  her,  even  when  she  crawls  back  on 
her  knees.  But  don't  yoit  despise  her."  She 
stood  before  him,  looking  down  into  his  face  for 
a  moment.  "Be  just  as  sweet  and  gentle  to 
her  as  you  can.  If  she  ever  goes  wrong  again, 
it  will  be  the  world's  fault  or  her  husband's,  — 
not  her  own.  Tell  her  from  me  that  I  trust  her 
and  believe  in  her,  and  that  I  send  her  my  love." 

Sanford  listened  to  her  with  ill-concealed  ad- 
miration. It  was  when  she  was  defending  or 
helping  some  one  that  she  appealed  to  him 
most.  At  those  times  he  recognized  that  her 
own  wrongs  had  not  imbittered  her,  but  had 
only  made  her  the  more  considerate. 


244        CALEB   WEST,    MASTER   DIVER 

"There's  never  a  day  you  don't  teach  me 
something,"  he  answered  quietly,  his  eyes  fixed 
on  her  moving  figure.  "  Perhaps  I  have  been 
a  little  hard  on  Betty,  but  it 's  because  I  've 
seen  how  Caleb  suffers." 

She  stopped  again  in  her  walk  and  leaned 
over  the  rail  of  the  veranda,  her  chin  on  her 
hand.  Sanford  watched  her,  following  the 
bend  of  her  exquisite  head  and  the  marvelous 
slope  of  her  shoulders.  He  saw  that  something 
unusual  had  stirred  her,  but  he  could  not  de- 
cide whether  it  was  caused  by  the  thought  of 
Betty's  misery  or  by  some  fresh  sorrow  of  her 
own.  He  threw  away  his  cigar,  rose  from  his 
chair,  and  joined  her  at  the  railing.  He  could 
be  unhappy  himself  and  stand  up  under  it,  but 
he  could  not  bear  to  see  a  shade  cross  Kate's 
face. 

"You  are  not  happy  to-night,"  he  said. 

She  did  not  answer. 

Sanford  waited,  looking  down  over  the  gar- 
den. He  could  see  the  shadowy  outlines  of 
the  narrow  walks  and  the  white  faces  of  the 
'roses  drooping  over  the  gravel.  When  he 
spoke  again  there  were  hesitating,  halting  tones 
in  his  voice,  as  if  he  were  half  afraid  to  follow 
the  course  he  had  dared  to  venture  on. 

"  Is  Morgan  coming  home,  Kate  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  she  replied  dreamily,  after 
a  pause. 

"  Did  n't  he  say  in  his  last  letter  ? " 


A   NARROW   PATH  245 

"  Oh  yes  ;  answered  as  he  always  does,  — 
when  he  gets  through." 

"  Where  is  he  now  ?  " 

"Paris,  I  believe." 

She  had  not  moved  nor  lifted  her  chin  from 
her  hand. 

Minutes  went  by  without  her  speaking  again. 
A  strange  hush  fell  about  them.  Sanford  could 
hear  the  click  of  the  old  clock  in  the  hall,  and 
the  monotonous  song  of  the  crickets  in  the 
grass  below. 

A  sense  of  great  remoteness  from  her  came 
over  him.  It  was  as  though  she  had  gone  into 
a  room  alone  with  her  griefs  and  her  sobs,  and 
had  locked  the  door  behind  her.  He  had  not 
meant  to  wound  her  by  his  questions,  only  to 
discover  whether  some  new  phase  of  the  old 
grief  were  hurting  her.  If  it  were  anything 
else  but  the  sorrow  he  never  touched,  he  stood 
ready  to  give  her  all  his  strength. 

He  looked  at  her  intently.  She  had  never 
appeared  to  him  so  beautiful,  so  pathetic  :  there 
was  a  hopeless  weariness  in  her  pose  that 
vibrated  through  him  as  nothing  had  done  in 
months.  The  change  in  her  mood  had  come 
suddenly,  as  all  changes  did  in  her,  but  to-night 
he  seemed  unable  to  meet  them.  A  great  rush 
of  feeling  surged  over  him.  He  stepped  closer, 
lifting  his  hand  to  lay  on  her  head.  Then, 
with  an  abrupt  gesture,  he  turned  and  began 
pacing  the  veranda,  his  head  bowed,  his  hands 


246        CALEB   WEST,    MASTER   DIVER 

clasped  behind  his  back.  Strange,  unutterable 
thoughts  whirled  through  his  brain ;  unbidden, 
unspeakable  words  crowded  in  his  throat.  He 
made  one  great  effort  at  self-control,  stopped 
once  more,  this  time  laying  his  hand  upon  her 
shoulder.  He  felt  in  his  heart  that  it  was  the 
same  old  sorrow  which  now  racked  her,  but  an 
uncontrollable  impulse  swept  him  on.  All  the 
restraint  of  years  seemed  slipping  from  him. 

"  Kate,  what  is  it  ?  You  break  my  heart. 
Is  there  something  else  to  worry  you,  —  some- 
thing you  have  n't  told  me  ?  " 

She  shivered  slightly  as  she  felt  the  hand 
tighten  on  her  shoulder.  Then  a  sudden,  tin- 
gling thrill  ran  through  her. 

"  I  have  never  any  right  to  be  unhappy  when 
I  have  you,  Henry.  You  are  all  the  world  to 
me,  —  all  I  have." 

It  was  not  the  answer  he  had  expected. 
For  an  instant  the  blood  left  his  face,  his  heart 
stood  still. 

Kate  raised  her  head,  and  their  eyes  met. 

There  are  narrow  paths  in  life  where  one 
fatal  step  sends  a  man  headlong.  There  are 
eyes  in  women's  heads  as  deep  as  the  abyss 
below.  Hers  were  wide  open,  with  the  fearless 
confidence  of  an  affection  she  was  big  enough 
to  give.  He  saw  down  into  their  depths,  and 
read  there  —  as  they  flashed  toward  him  in 
intermittent  waves  over  the  barrier  of  the  re- 
serve she   sometimes   held  —  love,    truth,  and 


A   NARROW   PATH  247 

courage.  To  disturb  these,  even  by  the  sym- 
pathy she  longed  to  receive  and  he  to  give, 
might,  he  knew,  endanger  the  ideal  of  that 
loyalty  to  another  in  her  which  he  venerated 
most.  To  go  behind  it  and  break  down  the 
wall  of  that  self-control  of  hers  which  held  in 
check  the  unknown,  untouched  springs  of  her 
heart  might  loosen  a  flood  that  would  wreck  the 
only  bark  which  could  keep  them  both  afloat 
on  the  troubled  waters  of  life,  —  their  friend- 
ship. 

Sanford  bent  his  head,  raised  her  hand  to  his 
lips,  kissed  it  reverently,  and  without  a  word 
walked  slowly  toward  his  chair. 

As  he  regained  his  seat  the  butler  pushed 
aside  the  light  curtains  of  the  veranda,  and 
in  his  regulation  monotone  announced,  "  Miss 
Shirley,  Major  Slocomb,  and  Mr.  Hardy." 

"  My  dear  madam,"  broke  out  the  major  in 
his  breeziest  manner,  before  Mrs.  Leroy  could 
turn  to  greet  him,  'v  what  would  life  be  in  this 
bake-oven  of  a  city  but  for  the  joy  of  yo'r  pre- 
sence ?  And  Henry  !  You  here,  too  ?  Do  you 
know  that  that  rascal  Jack  has  kept  me  waiting 
for  two  hours  while  he  took  Helen  for  a  five 
minutes'  walk  round  the  square,  or  I  would  have 
been  here  long  ago.  Where  are  you,  you  young 
dog  ?  "  he  called  to  Jack,  who  had  lingered  in 
the  darkened  hall  with  Helen. 

"What 's  the  matter  now,  major?"  inquired 
Jack,  shaking  hands  with  Mrs.  Leroy,  and  turn- 


248        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

ing  again  toward  the  Pocomokian.  "  I  asked 
your  permission.  What  would  you  have  me  do  ? 
Let  Helen  see  nothing  of  New  York,  because 
you  "  — 

"Do  hush  up,  cousin  Tom,"  said  Helen, 
pursing  her  lips  at  the  major.  "  We  stayed 
out  because  we  wanted  to,  did  n't  we,  Jack  ? 
Don't  you  think  he  is  a  perfect  ogre,  Mrs. 
Leroy  ? " 

"  He  forgets  his  own  younger  days,  my 
dear  Miss  Shirley,"  she  answered.  "He  shan't 
scold  you.  Henry,  make  the  major  join  you 
in  a  cigar,  while  I  give  Miss  Helen  a  cup  of 
coffee." 

"They  are  both  forgiven,  my  dear  madam, 
when  so  lovely  an  advocate  pleads  their  cause," 
said  the  Pocomokian  grandiloquently,  bowing 
low,  his  hand  on  his  chest.  "Thank  you ;  I  will 
join  you,"  and  leaned  over  Sanford  as  he  spoke, 
and  lighted  a  cigar  in  the  blue  flame  of  the  tiny 
silver  lamp. 

It  was  delightful  to  note  how  the  coming 
alliance  of  the  Hardy  and  Slocomb  families  had 
developed  the  paternal,  not  to  say  patriarchal 
attitude  of  the  major  toward  his  once  boon 
companion.  He  already  regarded  Jack  as  his 
own  son,  —  somebody  to  lean  upon  in  his  de- 
clining years,  a  prop  and  a  staff  for  his  old  age. 
He  had  even  sketched  out  in  his  mind  a  certain 
stately  mansion  on  the  avenue,  to  say  nothing 
of  a  series   of   country-seats,  —  one  on  Crab 


"  Sanford  .  .  .  raised  her  hand  to  his  lips ' 


A   NARROW   PATH  249 

Island  in  the  Chesapeake,  —  all  with  porticoes 
and  an  especial  suite  of  rooms  on  the  ground 
floor ;  and  he  could  hear  Jack  say,  as  he  pointed 
them  out  to  his  visitors,  "  These  are  for  my 
dear  old  friend  Major  Slocomb  of  Pocomoke, — 
member  of  my  wife's  family."  He  could  see 
his  old  enemy,  Jefferson,  Jack's  servant,  cowed 
into  respectful  obedience  by  the  new  turn  in 
his  master's  affairs,  in  which  the  Pocomokian 
had  lent  so  helpful  a  hand. 

"  She  is  the  child  of  my  old  age,  so  to  speak, 
suh,  and  I,  of  co'se,  gave  my  consent  after  great 
hesitation,"  he  would  frequently  say,  fully  per- 
suading himself  that  Helen  had  really  sought 
his  approbation,  and  never  for  one  moment 
dreaming  that,  grateful  as  she  was  to  him  for 
his  chaperonage  of  her  while  in  New  York,  he 
was  the  last  person  in  the  world  she  would 
have  consulted  in  any  matter  so  vital  to  her 
happiness. 

Jack  accepted  the  change  in  the  major's 
manner  with  the  same  good  humor  that  sea- 
soned everything  that  came  to  him  in  life.  He 
had  known  the  Pocomokian  for  too  many  years 
to  misunderstand  him  now,  and  this  new  depar- 
ture, with  its  patronizing  airs  and  fatherly  over- 
sight, only  amused  him. 

Mrs.  Leroy  had  drawn  the  young  girl  toward 
the  divan,  and  was  already  discussing  her  plans 
for  the  summer. 

"  Of  course  you  are  both  to  come  to  me  this 


250        CALEB   WEST,    MASTER   DIVER 

fall,  when  the  beautiful  Indian  summer  weather 
sets  in.  The  Pines  is  never  so  lovely  as  then. 
You  shall  sail  to  your  heart's  content,  for  the 
yacht  is  in  order ;  and  we  will  then  see  what 
this  great  engineer  has  been  doing  all  sum- 
mer," she  added,  glancing  timidly  from  under 
her  dark  eyelashes  at  Sanford.  "  Mr.  Leroy's 
last  instructions  were  to  keep  the  yacht  in  com- 
mission until  he  came  home.  I  am  determined 
you  shall  have  one  more  good  time,  Miss  Helen, 
before  this  young  man  ties  you  hand  and  foot. 
You  will  come,  major?" 

"  I  cannot  promise,  madam.  It  will  depend 
entirely  on  my  arrangin'  some  very  important 
matters  of  business.  I  hope  to  be  able  to  come 
for  perhaps  a  day  or  so." 

Jack  looked  at  Sanford  and  smiled.  Evi- 
dently Mrs.  Leroy  did  not  know  the  length  of 
the  major's  "day  or  so."  Nor  that  it  was  apt 
to  depend  upon  the  date  of  the  next  invitation. 
He  was  still  staying  with  Jack,  and  had  been 
there  since  the  spring. 

Buckles,  the  butler,  had  been  bending  over 
the  major  as  that  gentleman  delivered  himself 
of  this  announcement  of  his  hopes.  When  he 
had  filled  to  the  brim  the  tiny  liqueur  glass,  the 
major — perhaps  in  a  moment  of  forgetfulness 
—  said,  "  Thank  you,  suh,"  at  which  Buckles's 
face  hardened.  Such  slips  were  not  infrequent. 
The  major  was,  in  fact,  always  a  little  uncom- 
fortable in  Buckles's  presence.     Jack,  who  had 


A   NARROW   PATH  251 

often  noticed  his  attitude,  thought  that  these 
conciliatory  remarks  were  intended  as  pallia- 
tives to  the  noiseless  English  flunky  with  the 
immovable  face  and  impenetrable  manner.  The 
Pocomokian  never  extended  such  deference  to 
Sam,  Sanford's  own  servant,  or  even  to  Jeffer- 
son. "  Here,  Sam,  you  black  scoundrel,  bring 
me  my  hat,"  he  would  say  whenever  he  was 
leaving  Sanford's  apartments,  at  which  Sam's 
face  would  relax  quite  as  much  as  Buckles's 
had  hardened.  But  then  the  major  knew  Sam's 
kind,  and  Sam  knew  the  major,  and,  strange  to 
say,  believed  in  him. 

When  Buckles  had  retired,  Sanford  started 
the  Pocomokian  on  a  discussion  in  which  all 
the  talking  would  fall  to  the  latter's  share. 
Mrs.  Leroy  turned  to  Helen  and  Jack  again. 
There  was  no  trace,  in  her  voice  nor  on  her 
features,  of  the  emotion  that  had  so  stirred 
her.  All  that  side  of  her  nature  had  been 
shut  away  the  moment  her  guests  appeared. 

"  Don't  mind  a  word  Jack  says  to  you,  my 
dear,  about  hurrying  up  the  wedding-day,"  she 
laughed,  in  a  half-earnest  and  altogether  charm- 
ing way,  —  not  cynical,  but  with  a  certain  un- 
dercurrent of  genuine  anxiety  in  her  voice,  all 
the  more  keenly  felt  by  Sanford,  who  waited 
on  every  word  that  fell  from  her  lips.  "  Put  it 
off  as  long  as  possible.  So  many  troubles  and 
disappointments  come  afterwards,  and  it  is  so 
hard  to  keep  everything  as  it  should  be.    There 


252        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER    DIVER 

is  no  happier  time  in  life  than  that  just  before 
marriage.  Oh,  you  need  n't  scowl  at  me,  you 
young  Bluebeard  ;  I  know  all  about  it,  and  you 
don't  know  one  little  bit." 

Helen  looked  at  Jack  in  some  wonder.  She 
was  at  a  loss  to  know  how  much  of  the  talk 
was  pure  badinage,  and  how  much,  perhaps,  the 
result  of  some  bitter  worldly  experience.  The 
young  girl  shuddered,  yet  without  knowing 
what  inspired  the  remark  or  what  lay  behind 
it.  But  she  laughed  quite  heartily,  as  she  said, 
"  It  is  all  true,  no  doubt ;  only  I  intend  to  begin 
by  being  something  of  a  tyrant  myself,  don't  I, 
Jack?" 

Before  Jack  could  reply,  Smearly,  who  had 
hurried  by  Buckles,  entered  unannounced,  and 
with  a  general  smile  of  recognition,  and  two 
fingers  to  the  major,  settled  himself  noiselessly 
in  an  easy-chair,  and  reached  over  the  silver 
tray  for  a  cup.  It  was  a  house  where  such 
freedom  was  not  commented  on,  and  Smearly 
was  one  of  those  big  Newfoundland-dog  kind  of 
visitors  who  avail  themselves  of  all  privileges. 

"  What  is  the  subject  under  discussion  ?  " 
the  painter  asked,  as  he  dropped  a  lump  of  sugar 
into  his  cup  and  turned  to  his  hostess. 

"I  have  just  been  telling  Miss  Shirley  how 
happy  she  will  make  us  when  she  comes  to 
The  Pines  this  autumn." 

"  And  you  have  consented,  of  course  ? "  he 
inquired  carelessly,  lifting  his  bushy  eyebrows. 


A  NARROW   PATH  253 

"Oh  yes,"  answered  Helen,  a  faint  shadow 
settling  for  a  moment  on  her  face.  "  It 's  so 
kind  of  Mrs.  Leroy  to  want  me.  You  are 
coming,  too,  are  you  not,  Mr.  Sanford  ?  "  and 
she  moved  toward  Henry's  end  of  the  divan, 
where  Jack  followed  her.  She  had  never  liked 
Smearly.  She  did  not  know  why,  but  he  al- 
ways affected  her  strangely.  "  He  looks  like 
a  bear,"  she  once  told  Jack,  "  with  his  thick 
neck  and  his  restless  movements." 

"Certainly,  Miss  Helen,  I  am  going,  too," 
replied  Sanford.  "  I  tolerate  my  work  all  sum- 
mer in  expectation  of  these  few  weeks  in  the 
autumn." 

The  young  girl  raised  her  eyes  quickly. 
Somehow  it  did  not  sound  to  her  like  Sanford's 
voice.  There  was  an  unaccustomed  sense  of 
strain  in  it.  She  moved  a  little  nearer  to  him, 
however,  impelled  by  some  subtle  sympathy 
for  the  man  who  was  not  only  Jack's  friend, 
but  one  she  trusted  as  well. 

"  Lovely  to  be  so  young  and  hopeful,  is  n't 
it  ? "  said  Mrs.  Leroy  to  Smearly,  with  a  move- 
ment of  her  head  toward  Helen.  "  Look  at 
those  two.  Nothing  but  rainbows  for  her  and 
Jack." 

"  Rainbows  come  after  the  storm,  my  dear 
lady,  not  before,"  rejoined  Smearly.  "  If  they 
have  any  prismatics  in  theirs,  they  will  appear 
in  a  year  or  two  from  now."  He  had  lowered 
his  voice  so  that  Helen  should  not  hear. 


254        CALEB   WEST,    MASTER   DIVER 

"  You  never  believe  in  anything.  You  hate 
women,"  said  Mrs.  Leroy  impatiently  in  an 
undertone. 

"  True,  but  with  some  exceptions ;  you,  for 
instance,"  with  a  mock  bow.  "But  why  fool 
ourselves,  my  dear  lady  ?  The  first  year  is  one 
of  sugar-plums,  flowers,  and  canary-birds.  We 
can't  keep  our  hands  off  them ;  we  love  them 
so  we  want  to  eat  them  up." 

"Just  like  any  other  wild  beast,"  interrupted 
Mrs.  Leroy,  with  a  gurgling  laugh,  her  head 
bent  coquettishly  on  one  side. 

"The  second  year  both  are  pulling  in  oppo- 
site directions."  (He  affected  not  to  have  heard 
her  thrust.)  "  Then  comes  a  snap  of  the  mat- 
rimonial cord,  and  over  they  go.  Of  course 
neither  of  these  two  turtle-doves  has  the  slightest 
idea  of  anything  of  the  kind.  They  expect  to 
go  on  and  on  and  on,  like  the  dear  little  babes 
in  the  wood;  but  they  won't,  all  the  same. 
Some  day  an  old  crow  of  an  attorney  will  come 
and  cover  them  over  with  dried  briefs,  and  that 
will  be  the  last  of  it." 

Sanford  took  no  part  in  the  general  talk. 
He  was  listless,  absorbed.  He  felt  an  irresist- 
ible desire  to  be  alone,  and  stayed  on  only 
because  Helen's  many  little  confidences,  told 
to  him  in  her  girlish  way,  as  she  sat  beside  him 
on  the  divan,  required  but  an  acquiescing  nod 
now  and  then,  or  a  random  reply,  which  he 
could  give  without  betraying  himself. 


A   NARROW   PATH  255 

He  was  first  of  all  the  guests  to  rise.  In 
response  to  Mrs.  Leroy's  anxious  glance,  as  he 
bade  her  good-night  between  the  veranda  cur- 
tains, he  explained,  in  tones  loud  enough  to  be 
heard  by  everybody,  that  it  was  necessary  to 
make  an  early  start  in  the  morning  for  the 
Ledge,  and  that  he  had  some  important  letters 
to  write  that  night. 

"  Don't  forget  to  telegraph  me  if  you  get  the 
certificate,"  was  all  she  said. 

Helen  and  Jack  followed  Sanford.  They  too 
wanted  to  be  alone;  that  is,  together,  —  in 
their  case  the  same  thing. 

Once  outside  and  under  the  trees  of  the 
park,  Helen  stopped  in  a  secluded  spot,  their 
shadows  under  the  electric  light  flecking  the 
pavement,  took  the  lapels  of  Jack's  coat  in  her 
hands,  and  said,  "Jack,  dear,  I  wasn't  happy 
there  to-night.  She  never  could  have  loved 
anybody." 

"Who,  darling?" 

"  Why,  Mrs.  Leroy.  Did  you  hear  what  she 
said?" 

"Yes,  but  it  was  only  Kate.  That's  her 
way,  Helen.     She  never  means  half  she  says." 

"  Yes,  but  the  way  she  said  it,  Jack.  She 
does  n't  know  what  love  means.  Loving  is  not 
being  angry  all  the  time.  Loving  is  helping,  — 
helping  everywhere  and  in  everything.  What- 
ever either  needs  the  other  gives.  I  can't  say 
it  just  as  I  want  to,  but  you  know  what  I  mean. 


256        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

And  that  Mr.  Smearly ;  he  didn't  think  I  heard, 
but  I  did." 

"  Dear  heart,"  said  Jack,  smoothing  her  cheek 
with  his  hand,  "don't  believe  everything  you 
hear.  You  are  not  accustomed  to  the  ways 
of  these  people.  Down  in  your  own  home  in 
Maryland  people  mean  what  they  say ;  here 
they  don't.  Smearly  is  all  right.  He  was  '  talk- 
ing through  his  hat,'  as  the  boys  say  at  the  club, 
—  that 's  all.  You  'd  think,  to  hear  him  go  on, 
that  he  was  a  sour,  crabbed  old  curmudgeon, 
now,  wouldn't  you?  Well,  you  never  were 
more  mistaken  in  your  life.  Every  penny  he 
can  save  he  gives  to  an  old  sister  of  his,  who 
has  n't  seen  a  well  day  for  years.  That 's  only 
his  talk." 

"  But  why  does  he  speak  that  way,  then  ? 
When  people  love  as  they  ought  to  love,  every 
time  a  disappointment  in  the  other  comes,  it  is 
just  one  more  opportunity  to  help, — not  a 
cause  for  ridicule.  I  love  you  that  way,  Jack ; 
don't  you  love  me  so  ? "  and  she  looked  up  into 
his  eyes. 

"I  love  you  a  million  ways,  you  sweet  girl," 
and,  with  a  rapid  glance  about  him  to  see  that 
no  one  was  near,  he  slipped  his  arm  about  her 
and  held  her  close  to  his  breast. 

He  felt  himself  lifted  out  of  the  atmosphere 
of  romance  in  which  he  had  lived  for  months. 
This  gentle,  shrinking  Southern  child  whom  he 
had  loved  and  petted  and  smothered  with  roses, 


A    NARROW    PATH  257 

this  tender,  clinging  girl  who  trusted  him  so 
implicitly,  was  no  longer  his  sweetheart,  but 
his  helpmate.  She  had  all  at  once  become 
a  woman,  —  strong,  courageous,  clear-minded, 
helpful,  ready  to  lead  him  if. need  be. 

A  new  feeling  rose  in  his  heart  and  spread 
itself  through  every  fibre  of  his  being,  —  a  feel- 
ing without  which  love  is  a  plaything.  It  was 
reverence. 

When  Sanford  reached  his  apartments  Sam 
was  waiting  for  him,  as  usual.  The  candles 
were  lighted  instead  of  the  lamp.  The  win- 
dows of  the  balcony  were  wide  open. 

"  You  need  not  wait,  Sam  ;  I  '11  close  the 
blinds,"  he  said,  as  he  stepped  out  and  sank 
into  a  chair. 

Long  after  Sam  had  gone  he  sat  there  with- 
out moving,  his  head  bent,  his  forehead  resting 
on  his  hand.  He  was  trying  to  pick  up  the 
threads  of  his  life  again,  to  find  the  old  pattern 
which  had  once  guided  him  in  his  course,  and 
to  clear  it  from  the  tangle  of  lines  that  had  sud- 
denly twisted  and  confused  him. 

For  a  long  time  he  saw  nothing  but  Kate's 
eyes  as  they  had  met  his  own,  with  the  possi- 
bilities which  he  had  read  in  their  depths.  He 
tried  to  drive  the  picture  from  him ;  then  baffled 
by  its  persistence  he  resolutely  faced  it ;  held 
it  as  it  were  in  his  hands,  and,  looking  long  and 
unflinchingly  at  it,  summoned  all  his  courage. 


258        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

He  had  read  Kate's  heart  in  her  face.  He 
knew  that  he  had  revealed  his  own.  But  he 
meant  that  the  future  should  be  unaffected  by 
the  revelations  made.  The  world  must  never 
share  her  confidence  nor  his,  as  it  would  surely 
do  at  their  first  false  step.  It  should  not  have 
the  right  to  turn  and  look,  and  to  wonder  at  the 
woman  whom  he  was  proud  to  love.  That  open 
fearlessness  which  all  who  knew  her  gloried  in 
should  still  be  hers.  He  realized  the  value  of 
it  to  her,  and  what  its  loss  would  entail  should 
a  spoken  word  of  his  rob  her  of  it,  or  any 
momentary  weakness  of  theirs  deprive  her  of 
the  strength  and  comfort  which  his  open  com- 
panionship could  give. 

No !  God  willing,  he  would  stand  firm,  and 
so  should  she. 

An  hour  later  he  was  still  there,  his  unlighted 
cigar  between  his  lips,  his  head  on  his  hands. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

UNDER   THE    WILLOWS 

The  mile  or  more  of  shore  skirting  the  curve 
of  Keyport  harbor  from  Keyport  Village  to 
Captain  Joe's  cottage  was  lighted  by  only  four 
street  lamps.  Three  of  these  were  hung  on 
widely  scattered  telegraph-poles  ;  the  fourth  was 
nailed  fast  to  one  end  of  old  Captain  Potts's 
fish-house. 

When  the  nights  were  moonless,  these  faith- 
ful sentinels,  with  eyes  alert,  scanned  the  wind- 
ing road,  or  so  much  of  it  as  their  lances  could 
protect,  watching  over  deep  culverts,  and  in  one 
place  guarded  a  treacherous  bridge  without  a 
rail. 

When  the  nights  were  cloudy  and  the  lan- 
tern-panes were  dimmed  by  the  driving  sleet, 
these  beacons  confined  their  efforts  to  pointing 
out  for  the  stumbling  wayfarer  the  deep  pud- 
dles or  the  higher  rows  of  soggy  seaweed 
washed  up  by  the  last  high  tide  into  the  high- 
way itself.  Only  on  thick  nights,  when  the 
fog-drift  stole  in  from  the  still  sea,  and  even 
Keyport  Light  burned  dim,  did  their  scouting 
rays  retreat  discomfited,  illumining  nothing  but 
the  poles  on  which  the  lanterns  hung. 


260        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

Yet  in  spite  of  this  vigilance  there  were  still 
long  stretches  of  road  between,  which  even  on 
clear  nights  were  dark  as  graveyards  and  as 
lonesome.  Except  for  the  ruddy  gleam  slanted 
across  the  path  from  some  cabin  window,  or  the 
glare  of  a  belated  villager's  swinging  lantern 
flecking  the  pale,  staring  fences  with  seesawing 
lights  and  shadows,  not  a  light  was  visible. 

Betty  knew  every  foot  of  this  road.  She  had 
trundled  her  hoop  on  it,  her  hair  flying  in  the 
wind,  when  she  first  came  to  Keyport  to  school. 
She  had  trodden  it  many  a  time  with  Caleb ;  had 
idled  along  its  curves  with  Lacey  before  the 
day  when  her  life  came  to  an  end,  and  had 
plodded  over  it  many  a  weary  hour  since,  as  she 
went  to  her  work  in  the  village  or  returned  to 
Captain  Joe's.  Every  stone  and  tree  and  turn 
were  familiar  to  her,  and  she  could  have  found 
her  way  in  the  pitch-dark  to  the  captain's  or  to 
Caleb's,  just  as  she  had  done  again  and  again 
in  the  days  before  the  street  lights  were  set,  or 
when  Caleb  would  be  standing  on  the  porch,  if 
she  were  late,  shading  his  eyes  and  peering 
down  the  road,  the  kitchen  lamp  in  his  hand. 
"  I  was  gittin'  worrited,  little  woman ;  what 
kep'  ye  ?  "  he  would  say.  She  had  never  been 
afraid  in  those  days,  no  matter  what  the  hour. 
Everybody  knew  her.  "  Oh,  that 's  you,  Mis' 
West,  is  it  ?  I  kind  o'  mistrusted  it  was," 
would  come  from  some  shadowy  figure  across 
the  road. 


UNDER   THE   WILLOWS  261 

All  this  was  changed  for  her  now.  There 
were  places  along  the  highway  that  made  her 
draw  her  shawl  closer,  often  half  hiding  her 
face.  She  would  shudder  as  she  turned  the 
corner  by  the  church,  the  one  where  the  cap- 
tain and  Aunty  Bell  had  taken  her  the  first  Sun- 
day after  her  coming  back.  The  big,  gloomy  oil 
warehouse  where  she  had  nursed  Lacey  seemed 
to  her  haunted  and  uncanny,  and  at  night  more 
gloomy  than  ever  without  a  ray  of  light  in  any 
one  of  its  broken,  staring  windows.  Even  the 
fishing-smacks,  anchored  out  of  harm's  way  for 
the  night,  looked  gruesome  and  mysterious,  with 
single  lights  aloft,  and  black  hulls  and  masts 
reflected  in  the  water.  It  was  never  until  she 
reached  the  willows  that  her  agitation  disap- 
peared. These  grew  just  opposite  Captain 
Potts's  fish-house.  There  were  three  of  them, 
and  their  branches  interlocked  and  spread  across 
the  road,  the  spaces  between  the  trunks  being 
black  at  night,  despite  the  one  street  lamp  nailed 
to  the  fish-house  across  the  way.  When  Betty 
gained  these  trees  her  breath  always  came  freer. 
She  could  then  see  along  the  whole  road,  away 
past  Captain  Joe's,  and  up  the  hill.  She  could 
see,  too,  Caleb's  cabin  from  this  spot,  and  the 
lamp  burning  in  the  kitchen  window.  She 
knew  who  was  sitting  beside  it.  From  these 
willows,  also,  she  could  run  for  Captain  Joe's 
swinging  gate  with  its  big  ball  and  chain,  get- 
ting safely  inside  before  Caleb  could  pass  and 


262        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

see  her,  if  by  any  chance  he  should  be  on  the 
road  and  coming  to  the  village.  Once  she  had 
met  him  this  side  of  their  dark  shadows.  It 
was  on  a  Saturday,  and  he  was  walking  into  the 
village,  his  basket  on  his  arm.  He  was  going 
for  his  Sunday  supplies,  no  doubt.  The  Ledge 
gang  must  have  come  in  sooner  than  usual,  for 
it  was  early  twilight.  She  had  seen  him  com- 
ing a  long  way  off,  and  had  looked  about  for 
some  means  of  escape.  There  was  no  mistak- 
ing his  figure.  She  would  know  him  as  far  as 
she  could  see  him,  —  that  strong,  broad  figure, 
with  the  awkward,  stiff  walk  peculiar  to  so 
many  seafaring  men,  particularly  lightship-keep- 
ers like  Caleb,  who  have  walked  but  little.  She 
knew,  too,  the  outline  of  the  big,  fluffy  beard 
that  the  wind  caught  and  blew  over  his  ruddy 
face.  No  one  could  be  like  her  Caleb  but  him- 
self. 

These  chance  meetings  she  dreaded  with  a 
fear  she  could  not  overcome.  On  this  last 
occasion,  finding  no  concealing  shelter,  she  had 
kept  on,  her  eyes  on  the  ground.  When  Caleb 
had  passed,  his  blue  eyes  staring  straight  ahead, 
his  face  drawn  and  white,  the  lips  pressed  close, 
she  turned  and  looked  after  him,  and  he  turned, 
too,  and  looked  after  her,  —  these  two,  man 
and  wife,  within  reach  of  each  other's  arms  and 
lips,  yet  with  only  the  longing  hunger  of  a  dead 
happiness  in  their  eyes.  She  could  have  run 
toward  him,  and  knelt  down  in  the  road,  and 


UNDER   THE    WILLOWS  263 

begged  him  to  forgive  her  and  take  her  home 
again,  had  not  Captain  Joe's  words  restrained 
her :  "  Caleb  says  he  ain't  got  nothin'  agin  ye, 
child,  but  he  won't  take  ye  back  s'  long  's  he 
lives." 

Because,  then,  of  the  dread  of  these  chance 
meetings,  and  because  of  the  shy  looks  of  many 
of  the  villagers,  who,  despite  Captain  Joe's 
daily  fight,  still  passed  her  with  but  a  slight 
nod  of  recognition,  she  was  less  unhappy  when 
she  walked  the  road  at  night  than  in  the  day- 
light. The  chance  of  being  recognized  was 
less.  Caleb  might  pass  her  in  the  dark  and 
not  see  her,  and  then,  too,  there  were  fewer 
people  passing  after  dark. 

On  the  Saturday  night  succeeding  that  on 
which  they  had  met  and  looked  at  each  other, 
she  determined  to  wait  until  it  was  quite  dark. 
He  would  have  come  in  then,  and  she  could  slip 
out  from  the  shop  where  she  worked  and  gain 
the  shore  road  before  he  had  finished  making 
his  purchases  in  the  village. 

Her  heart  had  been  very  heavy  all  day.  The 
night  before  she  had  left  her  own  bed  and 
tapped  at  Aunty  Bell's  door,  and  had  crept 
under  the  coverlid  beside  the  little  woman,  the 
captain  being  at  the  Ledge,  and  had  had  one  of 
her  hearty  cries,  sobbing  on  the  elder  woman's 
neck,  her  arms  about  her,  her  cheek  to  hers. 
She  had  gone  over  with  her  for  the  hundredth 
time  all  the  misery  of  her  position,  wondering 


264        CALEB   WEST,    MASTER   DIVER 

what  would  become  of  her  ;  and  how  hard  it 
was  for  Caleb  to  do  all  his  work  alone,  —  wash- 
ing his  clothes  and  cooking  his  meals  just  as  he 
had  done  on  board  the  lightship  ;  pouring  out 
her  heart  until  she  fell  asleep  from  sheer  ex- 
haustion. All  of  her  thoughts  were  centred  in 
him  and  his  troubles.  She  longed  to  go  back 
to  Caleb  to  take  care  of  him.  It  was  no  longer 
to  be  taken  care  of,  but  to  care  for  him. 

As  she  hurried  through  the  streets,  after 
leaving  the  shop,  and  gained  the  corner  leading 
to  the  shore  road,  she  glanced  up  and  down, 
fearing  to  see  the  sturdy  figure  with  the  basket. 
But  there  was  no  one  in  sight  whom  she  knew. 
At  this  discovery  she  slackened  her  steps  and 
looked  around  more  quietly.  When  she  reached 
the  bend  in  the  road,  a  flash  of  light  from  an 
open  door  in  a  cabin  near  by  gave  her  a  mo- 
mentary glimpse  of  a  housewife  bending  over 
a  stove  and  a  man  putting  a  dinner-pail  on  the 
kitchen  table.  Then  all  was  dark  again.  It 
was  but  a  momentary  glimpse  of  a  happiness 
the  possibility  of  which  in  her  own  life  she  had 
wrecked,  but  it  sent  the  blood  tingling  to  her 
face.  She  stopped,  steadying  herself  by  the 
stone  wall,  then  she  walked  on. 

When  she  passed  into  the  black  shadows  of 
the  overhanging  willows,  a  man  stepped  from 
behind  a  tree-trunk. 

"  Are  n't  you  rather  late  this  evening  ? "  he 
asked. 


UNDER  THE   WILLOWS  265 

Betty  stood  still,  the  light  of  the  street  lamp 
full  on  her  face.  The  abruptness  of  the  sound 
startled  her. 

"  Oh,  you  need  n't  be  afraid  ;  I  'm  not  going 
to  hurt  you." 

The  girl  peered  into  the  gloom.  She  thought 
the  voice  was  familiar,  though  she  was  not  sure. 
She  could  distinguish  only  a  shadowy  face. 

"  What  makes  you  so  skittish,  anyhow  ? "  the 
man  asked  again,  —  in  a  lower  tone  this  time. 
"  You  did  n't  use  to  be  so.  I  thought  maybe 
you  might  like  to  drive  over  to  Medford  and 
see  the  show  to-night." 

Betty  made  no  answer,  but  she  took  a  step 
nearer  to  him,  trying  to  identify  him.  She  was 
not  afraid  ;  only  curious.  Then  all  at  once  it 
occurred  to  her  that  it  could  be  for  no  good 
purpose  he  had  stopped  her.  None  of  the  men 
had  spoken  to  her  in  the  street,  even  in  the  day- 
time, since  her  return  home. 

"Please  let  me  pass,"  she  said  quietly  and 
firmly. 

"  Oh,  you  need  n't  be  in  a  hurry.  We  've 
got  all  night.  Come  along,  now,  won't  you  ? 
You  used  to  like  me  once,  before  you  shook  the 
old  man." 

Betty  knew  him  now  ! 

The  terror  of  her  position  overcame  her ;  a 
deathly  faintness  seized  her. 

She  saw  it  all ;  she  knew  why  this  man  dared. 
She  realized   the  loneliness  and  desolation  of 


266        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

her  position,  poor  child  that  she  was.  Every 
cabin  near  her  filled  with  warmth  and  cheer 
and  comfort,  and  she  friendless  and  alone ! 
Not  a  woman  near  but  had  the  strong  arm  of 
husband  or  brother  to  help  and  defend  her. 
The  very  boats  in  the  harbor,  with  their  bea- 
con-lights aloft,  protected  and  safe.  Only  she 
in  danger ;  only  she  unguarded,  waylaid,  open 
to  insult,  even  by  a  man  like  this. 

She  stood  shivering,  looking  into  his  cowardly 
face.  Then  rousing  herself  to  her  peril,  she 
sprang  toward  the  road.  In  an  instant  the  man 
had  seized  her  wrist.  She  felt  his  hot  breath 
on  her  face. 

"  Oh,  come  now,  none  of  that !  Say,  why 
ain't  I  as  good  as  Bill  Lacey?  Give  me  a 
kiss." 

"  Let  me  go  !  Let  me  go  !  How  dare  you ! " 
she  cried,  struggling  in  his  grasp.  When 
she  found  his  strength  gaining  on  her,  she 
screamed. 

Hardly  had  she  made  her  outcry,  when  from 
behind  the  fish-house  a  man  with  a  flowing 
beard  darted  into  the  shadows,  flung  himself  on 
Betty's  assailant,  and  dragged  him  out  under 
the  glare  of  the  street  lamp.  The  girl  fled  up 
the  road  without  looking  behind. 

"  That 's  what  ye  're  up  to,  is  it,  Mr.  Carle- 
ton  ?  "  said  the  man,  holding  the  other  with  the 
grip  of  a  steel  vise.  "  I  'spected  as  much  when 
I  see  ye  passin'  my  place.     Damn  ye !     If  it 


UNDER   THE   WILLOWS  267 

warn't  that  it  would  be  worse  for  her,  I  'd  kill 
ye!" 

Every  muscle  in  the  speaker's  body  was  tense 
with  anger.  Carleton's  head  was  bent  back,  his 
face  livid  from  the  pressure  of  his  assailant's 
fingers  twisted  about  his  throat. 

The  man  slowly  relaxed  his  hold.  "Ain't 
she  got  trouble  'nough  without  havin'  a  skunk 
like  you  a-runnin'  foul  o'  her  ?  " 

Carleton  made  a  quick  gesture  as  if  to  spring 
aside  and  run.  The  diver  saw  the  movement 
and  stepped  in  front  of  him. 

"  Ain't  ye  ashamed  o'  yerself  ?  Ain't  it  mean 
o'  ye  to  make  up  to  a  gal  like  Betty?"  His 
voice  was  low  and  measured. 

"What 's  it  your  business,  anyhow  ?  "  Carle- 
ton  gasped  between  his  breaths,  shaking  him- 
self like  a  tousled  dog.  "  What  are  you  putting 
on  frills  about  her  for,  anyhow  ?  She  's  nothing 
to  you,  if  she  is  your  wife.  I  guess  I  know 
what  I  'm  doing." 

Caleb's  fingers  grew  hard  and  rigid  as  claws. 

"  So  do  I  know  what  ye  're  a-doih'.  Ye  'd 
drag  that  child  down  an'  stomp  on  her,  if  ye 
could.  Ye  'd  make  a  thing  of  her,"  —  the  words 
came  with  a  hiss,  —  "  you  —  you  —  callin'  yer- 
self a  man !  " 

"  Why  don't  you  take  care  of  her,  then  ?  " 
snarled  Carleton,  with  an  assumed  air  of  com- 
posure, as  he  adjusted  his  collar  and  cuffs. 

"  That 's  what  I  'm  here  for  ;  that 's  why  I 


268        CALEB   WEST,    MASTER   DIVER 

follered  ye ;  there  ain't  a  night  since  it  begun 
to  git  dark  I  ain't  watched  her  home.  She's 
not  yourn  ;  she 's  mine.  Look  at  me,"  —  Caleb 
stepped  closer  and  raised  his  clinched  fist.  "  If 
ever  ye  speak  to  her  agin,  so  help  me  God,  I 
will  kill  ye !  " 

With  one  swing  of  his  arm  he  threw  the 
superintendent  out  of  his  way,  and  strode  up 
the  street. 

Carleton  staggered  from  the  blow,  and  would 
have  fallen  but  for  the  wall  of  the  fish-house. 
For  a  moment  he  stood  in  the  road  looking 
after  Caleb's  retreating  figure.  Then,  with  a 
forced  bravado  in  his  voice,  he  called  out  in  the 
darkness,  "  If  you  think  so  damn  much  of  her, 
why  don't  you  take  her  home  ? "  and  slunk 
away  toward  the  village. 

The  old  man  did  not  turn.  If  he  heard,  he 
made  no  sign.  He  walked  on,  with  his  head 
down,  his  eyes  on  the  road.  As  he  passed  Cap- 
tain Joe's  he  loitered  at  the  gate  until  he  saw 
the  light  flash  up  in  Betty's  bedroom ;  then  he 
kept  on  to  his  own  cabin. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

THE    SONG    OF    THE    FIRE 

The  fire  was  nearly  out  when  Caleb  entered 
his  kitchen  door  and  drew  a  chair  to  the  stove. 
Carleton's  taunting  words,  "  Why  don't  you  take 
her  home?  "  rang  in  his  ears.  Their  sting  hurt 
him.  Everything  else  seemed  to  fall  away  from 
his  mind.  He  knew  why  he  did  not  take  her 
home,  he  said  to  himself ;  every  one  else  knew 
why,  —  every  one  up  and  down  Keyport  knew 
what  Betty  had  done  to  ruin  him.  If  she  was 
friendless,  tramping  the  road,  within  sight  of 
her  own  house,  whose  fault  was  it  ?  Not  his. 
He  had  never  done  anything  but  love  her  and 
take  care  of  her. 

He  reached  for  a  pair  of  tongs,  stirred  the 
coals,  and  threw  on  a  single  piece  of  driftwood. 
The  fire  blazed  up  brightly  at  once,  its  light 
flickering  on  the  diver's  ruddy  face,  and  as 
quickly  died  out. 

"  Why  don't  I  take  care  of  'er,  eh  ?  Why 
did  n't  she  take  care  of  herself  ?  "  he  cried  aloud, 
gazing  into  the  smouldering  embers.  "  She 
sees  what  it  is  now  trampin'  the  road  nights, 
runnin'  up  agin  such  curs  as  him.     He'sa  nice 


270        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

un,  he  is.  I  wish  I  'd  choked  the  life  out'er 
him ;  such  fellers  ain't  no  right  to  live,"  look- 
ing about  him  as  if  he  expected  to  find  Carle- 
ton  behind  the  door,  and  as  quickly  recovering 
himself.  "  I  wonder  if  he  hurt  'er,"  — his  voice 
had  softened.  "  She  screamed  turrible.  I  ought, 
maybe,  to  'a'  ketched  up  to  her.  Poor  little 
gal,  she  ain't  used  to  this."  He  was  silent 
awhile,  his  head  bent,  his  shoulders  updrawn, 
his  big  frame  stretched  out  in  the  chair. 

"  She  ain't  nothin'  but  a  child,  anyhow,"  he 
broke  out  again,  —  "  Cap'n  Joe  says  so.  He  says 
I  don't  think  o'  this  ;  maybe  he  's  right.  He 
says  I  'm  bigger  an'  twice  as  old 's  she  be,  an' 
ought'er  know  more  ;  that  it  ain't  me  she  's 
hurted,  —  it 's  herself  ;  that  I  married  her  to 
take  care  of  'er  ;  and  that  the  fust  time  she  got 
in  a  hole  I  go  back  on  'er,  'cause  she 's  dragged 
me  in  arter  'er.  Well,  ain't  I  a-takin'  care  of 
'er  ?  Ain't  I  split  squar'  in  two  every  cent 
I  've  earned  since  she  run  away  with  that  "  — 

Caleb  paused  abruptly.  Even  to  himself  he 
never  mentioned  Lacey's  name.  Bending  for- 
ward he  poked  the  fire  vigorously,  raking  the 
coals  around  the  single  stick  of  driftwood. 
"It's  all  very  well  for  th'  cap'n  to  talk;  he 
ain't  gone  through  what  I  have." 

Pushing  back  his  chair  he  paced  the  small 
room,  talking  to  himself  as  he  walked,  pausing 
to  address  his  sentences  to  the  several  articles 
of  furniture,  —  the   chairs,  the  big  table,  the 


THE    SONG   OF   THE   FIRE  271 

kitchen  sink,  whatever  came  in  his  way.  It 
was  an  old  trick  of  his  when  alone.  "  I  ain't 
a-goin'  to  have  'er  come  home  so  late  no  more," 
he  continued.  His  voice  had  sunk  to  a  gentle 
whisper.  "  I  'm  goin'  to  tell  them  folks  she 
works  for  that  they  've  got  to  let  'er  out  afore 
dark,  or  she  shan't  stay."  He  was  looking  now 
at  an  old  rocker  as  if  it  were  the  shopkeeper 
himself.  "  She  '11  be  so  scared  arter  this  she 
won't  have  a  minute's  peace.  She  need  n't 
worrit  herself,  though,  'bout  that  skunk.  She 's 
shut  o'  him.  But  there'll  be  more  of  'em. 
They  all  think  that  now  I  've  throwed  'er  off 
they  kin  do  as  they  've  a  mind  to."  He  stopped 
again  and  gazed  down  at  the  floor,  seemingly 
absorbed  in  a  hole  in  one  of  the  planks. 
"  Cap'n  Joe  sez  I  ain't  got  no  business  to 
throw  'er  off.  He  would  n't  treat  a  dog  so,  — 
that 's  what  ye  said,  cap'n  ;  I  ain't  never  goin' 
to  forgit  it.  /  ain't  throwed  her  off.  She 
throwed  me  off,  —  lef '  me  here  without  a  word  ; 
an'  ye  know  it,  cap'n.  Ye  want  me  to  take  'er 
back,  do  ye?"  He  spoke  with  as  much  ear- 
nestness as  though  the  captain  stood  before 
him.  "  S'pose  I  do,  an'  she  finds  out  arter 
all  that  her  comin'  home  was  'cause  she  was 
skeared  of  it  all,  and  that  she  still  loved  "  — 

He  stopped,  reseated  himself,  and  picking  up 
another  stick  threw  it  on  the  fire,  snuggling 
the  two  together.  The  sticks,  cheered  by  each 
other's  warmth,  burst  into  a  crackling  flame. 


272        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

"  Poor  little  Betty  ! "  he  began  again  aloud. 
"I'm  sorry  for  ye.  Everybody's  agin  ye, 
child,  'cept  Cap'n  Joe's  folks.  I  know  it  hurts 
ye  turrible  to  have  folks  look  away  from  ye. 
Ye  always  loved  to  have  folks  love  ye.  I 
ain't  got  nothin'  agin  ye,  child,  indeed  I  ain't. 
It  was  my  fault,  not  yourn.  I  told  Cap'n  Joe 
so;  ask  him, — he'll  tell  ye."  He  turned 
toward  the  empty  chair  beside  him,  as  if  he  saw 
her  sad  face  there.  "  I  know  it 's  hard,  child," 
shaking  his  head.  "Ain't  nobody  feels  it 
more  'n  me,  —  ain't  nobody  feels  it  more  'n  me. 
I  guess  I  must  take  care  o'  ye  ;  I  guess  there 
ain't  nobody  else  but  me  kin  do  it." 

The  logs  blazed  cheerily  ;  the  whole  room 
was  alight.  "  I  wish  ye  loved  me  like  ye  did 
onct,  little  woman,  —  I  would  n't  want  no 
better  happiness  ;  jest  me  an'  you,  like  it  useter 
was.  I  wonder  if  ye  do  ?  No,  I  know  ye 
don't."  The  last  words  came  with  a  positive 
tone. 

For  a  long  time  he  remained  still,  gazing 
at  the  blazing  logs  locked  together,  the  flames 
dancing  about  them.  Then  he  got  up  and 
roamed  mechanically  around  the  room,  his 
thoughts  away  with  Betty  and  her  helpless 
condition,  and  her  rightful  dependence  on  him. 
In  the  same  dreary  way  he  opened  the  cup- 
board, took  out  a  piece  of  cold  meat  and  some 
slices  of  stale  bread,  laying  them  on  the  table, 
poured  some  tea  into  a  cup  and  put  it  on  the 


THE   SONG    OF   THE   FIRE  273 

stove ;  it  was  easier  making  the  tea  that  way 
than  in  a  pot.  He  drew  the  table  toward  the 
fire,  so  that  his  supper  would  be  within  reach, 
stirring  the  brewing  tea  meanwhile  with  a  fork 
he  had  in  his  hand,  and  began  his  frugal  meal. 
Since  Betty  left  he  had  never  set  the  table. 
It  seemed  less  lonely  to  eat  this  way. 

Just  as  he  had  finished  there  came  a  knock 
at  the  front  door.  Caleb  started,  and  put  down 
his  cup.  Who  could  come  at  this  hour  ?  Cran- 
ing his  head  toward  the  small  open  hall,  he  saw 
through  the  glass  in  the  door  the  outlines  of  a 
woman's  figure  approaching  him  through  the 
hall.  His  face  flushed,  and  his  heart  seemed 
to  jump  in  his  throat. 

"It's  me,  Caleb,"  said  the  woman.  "It's 
Aunty  Bell.  The  door  was  open,  so  I  did  n't 
wait.  Cap'n  sent  me  up  all  in  a  hurry.  He's 
jes'  come  in  from  the  Ledge,  and  hollered  to 
me  from  the  tug  to  send  up  and  get  ye.  The 
pump 's  broke  on  the  big  h'ister.  A  new  one  's 
got  to  be  cast  to-night  and  bored  out  to-mor- 
rer,  if  it  is  Sunday.  Cap'n  says  everything's 
stopped  at  the  Ledge,  and  they  can't  do  another 
stroke  till  this  pump  's  fixed.  Were  n't  nobody 
home  but  Betty,  and  so  I  come  myself.  Come 
right  along  ;  he  wants  ye  at  the  machine  shop 
jes'  's  quick  as  ye  kin  git  there." 

Caleb  kept  his  seat  and  made  no  reply.  Some- 
thing about  the  shock  of  discovering  who  the 
woman  was  had  stunned  him.     He  did  not  try 


274        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

to  explain  it  to  himself ;  he  was  conscious  only 
of  a  vague  yet  stinging  sense  of  disappointment. 
Automatically,  like  a  trained  soldier  obeying  a 
command,  he  bent  forward  in  his  chair,  drew 
his  thick  shoes  from  under  the  stove,  slipped 
his  feet  into  them,  and  silently  followed  Aunty 
Bell  out  of  the  house  and  down  the  road.  When 
they  reached  Captain  Joe's  gate  he  looked  up 
at  Betty's  window.     There  was  no  light. 

"  Has  Betty  gone  to  bed  ?  "  he  asked  quietly. 

"  Yes,  more  'n  an  hour  ago.  She  come  home 
late,  all  tuckered  out.  I  see  'er  jes'  before  I 
come  out.  She  said  she  warn't  sick,  but  she 
would  n't  eat  nothin'." 

Caleb  paused,  looked  at  her  as  if  he  were 
about  to  speak  again,  hesitated,  then,  without 
a  word,  walked  away. 

"  Stubborn  as  a  mule,"  said  Aunty  Bell,  look- 
ing after  him.  "I  ain't  got  no  patience  with 
such  men." 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

THE   EQUINOCTIAL    GALE 

When  Sanford  arrived  at  Keyport,  a  raw, 
southeast  gale  swept  through  the  deserted 
streets.  About  the  wharves  of  the  village 
itself  idle  stevedores  lounged  under  dripping 
roofs,  watching  the  cloud-rack  and  speculating 
on  the  chances  of  going  to  work.  Out  in  the 
harbor  the  fishing-boats  rocked  uneasily,  their 
long,  red  pennants  flattened  against  the  sky. 
Now  and  then  a  frightened  sloop  came  hurry- 
ing in  with  close-reefed  jib,  sousing  her  bow 
under  at  every  plunge. 

Away  off  in  the  open  a  dull  gray  mist, 
churned  up  by  the  tumbling  waves,  dimmed 
the  horizon,  blurring  here  and  there  a  belated 
coaster  laboring  heavily  under  bare  poles,  while 
from  Crotch  Island  way  came  the  roar  of  the 
pounding  surf  dashed  headlong  on  the  beach. 
The  long-expected  equinoctial  storm  was  at  its 
height. 

So  fierce  and  so  searching  were  the  wind 
and  rain  that  Sanford  was  thoroughly  drenched 
when  he  reached  Captain  Joe's  cottage. 

"  For  the  land's  sake,  Mr.  Sanford,  come  right 


276        CALEB   WEST,    MASTER   DIVER 

in  !  Why,  ye  're  jest 's  soakin'  as  though  ye  'd 
fell  off  the  dock.  Cap'n  said  ye  was  a-comin', 
but  I  hoped  ye  would  n't.  I  ain't  never  see  it 
blow  so  terrible,  I  don't  know  when.  Gimme 
that  overcoat,"  slipping  it  from  his  shoulders 
and  arms.     "  Be  yer  feet  wet  ?  " 

"  Pretty  wet,  Mrs.  Bell.  I  '11  go  up  to  my 
room  and  get  some  dry  socks  "  — 

"  Ye  ain't  a-goin'  to  move  one  step.  Set 
right  down  an'  get  them  shoes  off.  I  '11  go  for 
the  socks  myself.  I  overhauled  'em  last  week 
with  the  cap'n's,  and  sot  a  new  toe  in  one  o' 
them.  I  won't  be  a  minute!  "  she  cried,  hurry- 
ing out  of  the  room,  and  returning  with  heavy 
woolen  socks  and  a  white  worsted  sweater. 

"Guess  ye  '11  want  these,  too,  sir,"  she  said, 
picking  up  a  pair  of  slippers. 

"  Where  is  Captain  Joe  ? "  asked  Sanford,  as 
he  pulled  off  his  wet  shoes  and  stockings  and 
moved  closer  to  the  fire.  It  was  an  every-day 
scene  in  Aunty  Bell's  kitchen,  where  one  half 
of  her  visitors  were  wet  half  the  time,  and  the 
other  half  wet  all  the  time. 

"I  don't  jes'  know.  He  ain't  been  home 
sence  Saturday  night  but  jes'  long  'nough  to 
change  his  clothes  an'  git  a  bite  to  eat.  Come 
in  from  the  Ledge  Saturday  night  on  the  tug 
two  hours  after  the  Screamer  brought  in  the 
men,  an'  hollered  to  me  to  go  git  Caleb  an' 
come  down  to  the  machine  shop.  You  heared 
they  broke  the   pump  on   the  h'istin'-engine, 


THE   EQUINOCTIAL   GALE  277 

did  n't  ye  ?  They  both  been  a-workin'  on  it 
pretty  much  ever  sence." 

"  Not  the  big  hoister  ? "  Sanford  exclaimed, 
with  a  start,  turning  pale. 

"  Well,  that 's  what  the  cap'n  said,  sir.  He 
an'  Caleb  worked  all  Saturday  night  an'  Sun- 
day, an'  got  a  new  castin'  made,  an'  bored  it  out 
yesterday.  I  told  him  he  would  n't  have  no 
luck,  workin'  on  Sunday,  but  he  did  n't  pay  no 
more  'tention  to  me  than  th'  wind  a-blowin'. 
It  was  to  be  done  this  mornin'.  He  was  up  at 
five,  an'  I  ain't  seen  him  sence.  Said  he  was 
goin'  to  git  to  the  Ledge  in  Cap'n  Potts'  cat- 
boat,  if  it  mod'rated." 

"  He  won't  go,"  said  Sanford,  with  a  sigh  of 
relief  now  that  he  knew  the  break  had  been 
repaired  without  delay.  "  No  cat-boat  can  live 
outside  to-day." 

"  Well,  all  I  know  is,  I  heared  him  tell  Lonny 
Bowles  to  ask  Cap'n  Potts  for  it  'fore  they  went 
out,"  she  replied,  as  she  hung  Sanford' s  socks 
on  a  string  especially  reserved  for  such  emer- 
gencies. "  Said  they  had  two  big  cut  stone  to 
set,  an'  they  could  n't  get  a  pound  o'  steam  on 
the  Ledge  till  he  brought  the  pump  back." 

Sanford  instinctively  looked  out  of  the  win- 
dow. The  rain  beat  against  the  panes.  The 
boom  of  the  surf  sounded  like  distant  cannon. 

"Ye  can't  do  nothin'  with  him  when  he  gits 
one  o'  his  spells  on,  noways,"  continued  Aunty 
Bell,  as  she  raked  out  the  coals.     "Jes'  wait 


278        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

till  I  grind  some  fresh  coffee,  —  won't  take  a 
minute.     Then  I  '11  git  breakfast  for  ye." 

Sanford  stepped  into  the  sitting-room,  closed 
the  door,  took  off  his  coat  and  waistcoat,  loos- 
ened his  collar,  pulled  on  the  sweater,  and  came 
back  into  the  kitchen,  looking  like  a  substitute 
in  a  game  of  football.  He  always  kept  a  stock 
of  such  dry  luxuries  in  his  little  room  upstairs, 
Aunty  Bell  looking  after  them  as  she  did  after 
the  captain's,  and  these  rapid  changes  of  dress 
were  not  unusual. 

"  How  does  Betty  get  on  ? "  asked  Sanford, 
drawing  up  a  chair  to  the  table.  The  bustling 
little  woman  was  bringing  relays  of  bread,  but- 
ter, and  other  comforts,  flitting  between  the 
pantry  and  the  stove. 

"  Pretty  peaked,  sir ;  ye  would  n't  know  her, 
poor  little  girl ;  it  'd  break  yer  heart  to  see  her," 
she  answered,  as  she  placed  a  freshly  baked 
pie  on  the  table.  "  She 's  upstairs  now.  Cap'n 
wouldn't  let  her  git  up  an'  go  to  work  this 
mornin',  it  blowed  so.  That 's  her  now  a-comin' 
downstairs." 

Sanford  rose  and  held  out  his  hand.  He  had 
not  seen  Betty  since  the  memorable  night  when 
she  had  stood  in  his  hallway,  and  he  had  taken 
her  to  Mrs.  Leroy's.  He  had  been  but  seldom 
at  the  captain's  of  late,  going  straight  to  the 
Ledge  from  the  train,  and  had  always  missed 
her. 

Betty  started  back,  and  her  color  came  and 


THE   EQUINOCTIAL   GALE  279 

went  when  she  saw  who  it  was.  She  did  n't 
know  anybody  was  downstairs,  she  said  half 
apologetically,  addressing  her  words  to  Aunty 
Bell,  her  eyes  averted  from  Sanford's  face. 

"  Why,  Betty,  I  'm  glad  to  see  you ! "  ex- 
claimed Sanford  in  a  cheery  tone,  his  mind 
going  back  to  Mrs.  Leroy's  admonition. 

Betty  raised  her  eyes  with  a  timid,  furtive 
glance,  her  face  flushed  scarlet,  but,  reading 
Sanford's  entire  sincerity  in  his  face,  she  laid 
her  hand  in  his,  saying  it  was  a  bad  day,  and 
that  she  hoped  he  was  not  wet.  Then  she 
turned  to  help  Mrs.  Bell  with  the  table. 

Sanford  watched  her  slight  figure  and  care- 
worn face  as  she  moved  about  the  room — hardly 
a  trace  in  them  of  the  Betty  of  old.  When 
Aunty  Bell  had  gone  down  into  the  cellar,  he 
called  Betty  to  him  and  said  in  a  low  voice,  "  I 
have  a  message  for  you." 

She  turned  quickly,  as  if  anticipating  some 
unwelcome  revelation. 

"  Mrs.  Leroy  told  me  to  give  you  her  love." 

Betty's  eyes  filled.  "  Is  that  what  she  said, 
Mr.  Sanford?" 

"Every  word,  Betty,  and  she  means  it  all." 

The  girl  stood  fingering  the  handles  of  the 
knives  she  had  just  laid  upon  the  cloth.  After 
a  pause,  Sanford's  eyes  still  upon  her  face,  she 
answered  slowly,  with  a  pathos  that  went  straight 
home  to  his  heart :  — 

"Tell  her,  please,  sir,  that  I  thank  her  so 


280        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

much,  and  that  I  never  forget  her.  I  am  trying 
so  hard  —  so  hard  —  I  promised  her  I  would. 
You  don't  know,  Mr.  Sanford,  —  nobody  won't 
never  know  how  good  she  was  to  me.  If  I  'd 
been  her  sister  she  could  n't  'a'  done  no  more." 

It  was  but  a  slight  glimpse  of  the  girl's  real 
nature,  but  it  settled  for  Sanford  all  the  misgiv- 
ings he  had  had.  It  sent  a  quiver  through  him, 
too,  as  his  mind  reverted  to  Kate's  own  ac- 
count of  the  interview.  He  was  about  to  tell 
her  of  Mrs.  Leroy's  expected  arrival  at  Medford, 
and  urge  her  to  go  over  some  Sunday,  when 
Aunty  Bell  bustled  in  with  a  covered  dish. 

"Come,  child,"  she  said,  "sit  right  down 
alongside  o'  Mr.  Sanford  an'  git  your  breakfas'. 
You  ain't  eat  a  morsel  yet." 

There  were  no  seats  of  honor  and  no  second 
table  in  this  house,  except  for  those  who  came 
late. 

Here  a  sharp,  quick  knock  sounded  on  the 
outer  door,  and  in  stalked  Captain  Bob  Brandt, 
six  feet  or  more  of  wet  oilskins,  the  rain  drip- 
ping from  his  sou'wester,  his  rosy,  good-natured 
face  peering  out  from  under  the  puckered 
brim. 

"  Cap'n  Joe  sent  me  down  to  the  station  for 
ye,  sir,  in  case  ye  come,  but  I  missed  ye,  some- 
how. Mr.  Carleton  was  on  the  platform,  an' 
said  he  see  ye  git  off.  Guess  ye  must  'a'  come 
cross  lots." 

"Did  Mr.  Carleton  mention  anything  about 


THE    EQUINOCTIAL   GALE  281 

receiving  a  telegram  from  me,  saying  I  wanted 
to  see  him  ?  "  inquired  Sanford,  as  he  shook  the 
skipper's  hand. 

"  Yes,  sir ;  said  he  knew  yer  was  comin',  but 
that  he  was  goin'  over  to  Medford  till  the  storm 
was  over." 

Sanford's  brow  knit.  Carleton  had  evidently 
avoided  him. 

"Did  he  leave  any  message  or  letter  with 
Captain  Joe  ? "  Sanford  asked,  after  a  pause. 
He  still  hoped  that  the  coveted  certificate  had 
finally  been  signed. 

"Guess  not,  sir.  Don't  think  he  see  'im. 
I  suppose  ye  know  Cap'n  Joe  's  gone  to  the 
Ledge  with  the  new  pump  ?  " 

"  Not  in  this  storm  ?  "  cried  Sanford,  a  look 
of  alarm  overspreading  his  face. 

"  Yes,  sir,  half  an  hour  ago,  in  Cap'n  Potts' 
Dolly.  I  watched  'em  till  they  run  under  the 
P'int,  then  I  come  for  you  ;  guess  that 's  what 
got  me  late.  She  was  under  double  reefs  then, 
an'  a-smashin'  things  for  all  she  was  worth.  I 
tell  ye,  't  ain't  no  good  place  out  there  for  no- 
body, not  even  Cap'n  Joe."  As  he  spoke  he 
took  off  his  hat  and  thrashed  the  water  from  it 
against  the  jamb  of  the  door.  "  No,  thank  ye, 
ma'am,"  with  a  wave  of  his  hand  in  answer  to 
Mrs.  Bell's  gesture  to  sit  down  opposite  Betty. 
"  I  had  breakfast  'board  the  Screamer." 

"Who 's  with  him  ?  "  exclaimed  Sanford,  now 
really  uneasy.     Captain  Joe's  personal   safety 


282        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

was  worth  more  to  him  than  the  completion 
of  a  dozen  lighthouses. 

"  Caleb  and  Lonny  Bowles.  They  'd  go 
anywheres  cap'n  told  'em.  He  was  holdin' 
tiller  when  I  see  him  last ;  Caleb  layin'  back  on 
the  sheet  and  Lonny  bailin'.  Cap'n  said  he 
would  n't  'a'  risked  it,  only  we  was  behind  an' 
he  did  n't  want  ye  worried.  I  'm  kind'er  sorry 
they  started ;  it  ain't  no  picnic  out  there,  I  tell 

ye." 

Betty  gave  an  anxious  look  at  Aunty  Bell. 

"Is  it  a  very  bad  storm,  Cap'n  Brandt?" 
she  asked,  almost  in  a  whisper. 

"  Wust  I  ever  see,  Mis'  West,  since  I  worked 
round  here,"  nodding  kindly  to  Betty  as  he 
spoke,  his  face  lighting  up.  He  had  always 
believed  in  her  because  the  captain  had  taken 
her  home.  "  Everything  comin'  in  under  dou- 
ble reefs,  —  them  that  is  a-comin'  in.  They 
say  two  o'  them  Lackawanna  coal-barges  went 
adrift  at  daylight  an'  come  ashore  at  Crotch 
Island.     Had  two  men  drownded,  I  hear." 

"Who  told  you  that  ?  "  asked  Sanford.  The 
news  only  increased  his  anxiety. 

"The  cap'n  of  the  tow  line,  sir.  He's  just 
telegraphed  to  New  Haven  for  a  big  wreckin'- 
tug." 

Sanford  told  Captain  Brandt  to  wait,  ran  up- 
stairs two  steps  at  a  time,  and  reappeared  in 
long  rubber  boots  and  mackintosh. 

"  I  '11  walk  up  toward  the  lighthouse  and  find 


THE    EQUINOCTIAL   GALE  283 

out  how  they  are  getting  on,  Mrs.  Bell,"  he 
said.  "We  can  see  them  from  the  lantern 
deck.  Come,  Captain  Brandt,  I  want  you  with 
me."  A  skilled  seaman  like  the  skipper  might 
be  needed  before  the  day  was  over. 

Betty  and  Aunty  Bell  looked  after  them 
until  they  had  swung  back  the  garden  gate 
with  its  clanking  ball  and  chain,  and  had  turned 
to  breast  the  gale  in  their  walk  of  a  mile  or 
more  up  the  shore  road. 

"  Oh,  aunty,"  said  Betty,  with  a  tremor  in 
her  voice,  all  the  blood  gone  from  her  face, 
"  do  you  think  anything  will  happen  ?  " 

"  Not  's  long 's  Cap'n  Joe 's  aboard,  child. 
He  ain't  a-takin'  no  risks  he  don't  know  all 
about.  Ye  need  n't  worry  a  mite.  Set  down 
an'  finish  yer  breakfas'.  I  believe  Mr.  Sanford 
ain't  done  more  'n  swallow  his  coffee,"  she 
added,  with  a  pitying  look,  as  she  inspected  his 
plate. 

The  fact  that  her  husband  was  exposed  in  an 
open  boat  to  the  fury  of  a  southeaster  made  no 
more  impression  upon  her  mind  than  if  he  had 
been  reported  asleep  upstairs.  She  knew  there 
was  no  storm  the  captain  could  not  face. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

FROM    THE    LANTERN    DECK 

Tony  Marvin,  the  keeper  of  Keyport  Light, 
was  in  his  little  room  next  the  fog-horn  when 
Sanford  and  the  skipper,  wet  and  glistening  as 
two  seals,  knocked  at  the  outer  door  of  his 
quarters. 

"  Well,  I  want  to  know ! "  broke  out  Tony 
in  his  bluff,  hearty  way,  as  he  opened  the  door. 
"  Come  in,  —  come  in !  Nice  weather  for 
ducks,  ain't  it  ?  Sunthin'  's  up,  or  you  fellers 
would  n't  be  out  to-day,"  leading  the  way  to  his 
room.  "Anybody  drownded  ?  "  he  asked  face- 
tiously, stopping  for  a  moment  on  the  threshold. 

"  Not  yet,  Tony,"  said  Sanford  in  a  serious 
tone.  He  had  known  the  keeper  for  years,  — 
had,  in  fact,  helped  him  get  his  appointment  at 
the  Light.  "  But  I  'm  worried  about  Captain 
Joe  and  Caleb."  He  opened  his  coat,  and 
walked  across  the  room  to  a  bench  set  against 
the  whitewashed  wall,  little  streams  of  water 
following  him  as  he  moved.  "Did  you  see 
them  go  by  ?  They  're  in  Captain  Potts's 
Dolly  Varden." 

"  Gosh  hang,  no  !     Ye  ain't  never  tellin'  me, 


FROM  THE  LANTERN  DECK    285 

be  ye,  that  the  cap'n  's  gone  to  the  Ledge  in 
all  this  smother?  And  that  fool  Caleb  with 
him,  too  ?  " 

"  Yes,  and  Lonny  Bowles,"  interrupted  the 
skipper.  As  he  spoke  he  pulled  off  one  of  his 
water-logged  boots  and  poured  the  contents 
into  a  fire-bucket  standing  against  the  wall. 

"  How  long  since  they  started  ? "  asked  the 
keeper  anxiously,  taking  down  his  spyglass 
from  a  rack  above  the  buckets. 

"  Half  an  hour  ago." 

"  Then  they  're  this  side  of  Crotch  Island 
yit,  if  they  're  anywheres.  Let 's  go  up  to  the 
lantern.  Mebbe  we  can  see  'em,"  he  said,  un- 
latching the  door  of  the  tower.  "  Better  leave 
them  boots  behind,  Mr.  Sanford,  and  shed  yer 
coat.  A  feller's  knees  git  purty  tired  climbin' 
these  steps,  when  he  ain't  used  to 't ;  there  's 
a  hundred  and  ten  of  'em.  Here,  try  these 
slippin's  of  mine,"  and  he  kicked  a  pair  of  slip- 
pers from  under  a  chair.  "  Guess  they  '11  fit 
ye.  Seems  to  me  Caleb  's  been  doin'  his  best 
to  git  drownded  since  that  high-flyer  of  a  gal 
left  him.  He  come  by  here  daylight,  one 
mornin'  awhile  ago,  in  a  sharpie  that  you  would 
n't  cross  a  creek  in,  and  it  blowin'  half  a  gale. 
I  ain't  surprised  o'  nothin'  in  Caleb,  but  Cap'n 
Joe  ought'er  have  more  sense.  What 's  he 
goin'  for,  anyhow,  to-day  ?  "  he  grumbled,  as 
Sanford  drew  on  the  slippers  and  placed  his 
foot  on  the  first  iron  step  of  the  spiral  staircase. 


286        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

"  He  's  taken  the  new  pump  with  him,"  said 
Sanford,  as  he  followed  the  keeper  up  the  wind- 
ing steps,  the  skipper  close  behind.  "They 
broke  the  old  pump  on  Saturday,  and  every- 
thing is  stopped  on  the  Ledge.  Captain  knows 
we  're  behind,  and  he  does  n't  want  to  lose  an 
hour.  But  it  was  a  foolish  venture.  He  had 
no  business  to  risk  his  life  in  a  blow  like  this, 
Tony."  There  was  a  serious  tone  in  Sanford's 
voice  which  quickened  the  keeper's  step. 

"  What  good  is  the  pump  to  him,  if  he  does 
get  it  there  ?  Men  can't  work  to-day,"  Tony 
answered.  He  was  now  a  dozen  steps  ahead, 
his  voice  sounding  hollow  in  the  reverberations 
of  the  round  tower. 

"  Oh,  that  ain't  a-goin'  to  stop  us  !  "  shouted 
the  skipper  from  below,  resting  a  moment  to 
get  his  breath  as  he  spoke.  "  We  've  got  the 
masonry  clean  out  o'  water  ;  we  're  all  right  if 
Cap'n  Joe  can  git  steam  on  the  hoister." 

The  keeper,  whose  legs  had  become  as  sup- 
ple as  a  squirrel's  in  the  five  years  he  had 
climbed  up  and  down  these  stairs,  reached  the 
lantern  deck  some  minutes  ahead  of  the  others. 
He  was  wiping  the  sweat  from  the  lantern 
glass  with  a  clean  white  cloth,  and  drawing 
back  the  day  curtains  so  that  they  might  see 
better,  when  Sanford's  head  appeared  above 
the  lens  deck. 

Once  upon  the  iron  floor  of  the  deck,  the 
roar  of  the  wind  and   the  dash   of   the   rain. 


FROM  THE  LANTERN  DECK    287 

which  had  been  deadened  by  the  thick  walls  of 
the  structure  surrounding  the  staircase  below, 
burst  upon  them  seemingly  with  increased  fury. 
A  tremulous,  swaying  motion  was  plainly  felt. 
A  novice  would  have  momentarily  expected  the 
structure  to  measure  its  length  on  the  rocks 
below.  Above  the  roar  of  the  storm  could  be 
heard,  at  intervals,  the  thunder  of  the  surf 
breaking  on  Crotch  Island  beach. 

"  Gosh  A'mighty  !  "  exclaimed  the  keeper, 
adjusting  the  glass,  which  he  had  carried  up 
in  his  hand.  "  It 's  a-humpin'  things,  and  no 
mistake.  See  them  rollers  break  on  Crotch 
Island,"  and  he  swept  his  glass  around.  "  I 
see  'em.  There  they  are, — three  o'  them. 
There 's  Cap'n  Joe,  —  ain't  no  mistakin'  him. 
He  's  got  his  cap  on,  same 's  he  allers  wears. 
And  there  's  Caleb  ;  his  beard  's  a-flyin'  straight 
out.     Who 's  that  in  the  red  flannen  shirt  ? " 

"Lonny  Bowles,"  said  the  skipper. 

"  Yes,  that 's  Bowles.  He 's  a-bailin'  for  all 
he 's  worth.  Cap'n  Joe 's  got  the  tiller  and 
Caleb 's  a-hangin'  on  the  sheet.  Here,  Mr. 
Sanford,"  and  he  held  out  the  glass,  "ye  kin 
see  'em  plain  's  day." 

Sanford  waved  the  glass  away.  The  keeper's 
eyes,  he  said,  were  better  accustomed  to  scan- 
ning a  scene  like  this.  He  himself  could  see 
the  Dolly,  a  mile  or  more  this  side  of  Crotch 
Island  Point,  and  nearly  two  miles  away  from 
where  the  three  watchers  stood.     She  was  hug- 


288        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

ging  the  inside  shore-line,  her  sail  close-reefed. 
He  could  even  make  out  the  three  figures,  which 
were  but  so  many  black  dots  beaded  along  her 
gunwale.  All  about  the  staggering  boat  seethed 
the  gray  sea,  mottled  in  wavy  lines  of  foam. 
Over  this  circled  white  gulls,  shrieking  as  they 
flew. 

"  He  's  gittin'  ready  to  go  about,"  continued 
the  keeper,  his  eye  still  to  the  glass.  "  I  see 
Caleb  shiftin'  his  seat.  They  know  they  can't 
make  the  P'int  on  that  leg.  Jiminy-whiz,  but 
it 's  soapy  out  there !  See  'er  take  that  roller ! 
Gosh ! " 

The  boat  careened,  the  dots  crowded  to- 
gether, and  the  Dolly  bore  away  from  the 
shore.  It  was  evidently  Captain  Joe's  inten- 
tion to  give  Crotch  Island  Point  a  wide  berth 
and  then  lay  a  straight  course  for  the  Ledge, 
now  barely  visible  through  the  haze,  the  der- 
ricks and  masonry  alone  showing  clear  above 
the  fringe  of  breaking  surf  tossed  white  against 
the  dull  gray  sky. 

All  eyes  were  now  fixed  on  the  Dolly.  Three 
times  she  laid  a  course  toward  the  Ledge,  and 
three  times  she  was  forced  back  behind  the 
island. 

"  They  've  got  to  give  it  up,"  said  the  keeper, 
laying  down  his  glass.  "  That  tide  cuts  round 
that  'ere  P'int  like  a  mill-tail,  to  say  nothin'  o' 
them  smashers  that's  rollin'  in.  How  she 
keeps  afloat  out  there  is  what  beats  me." 


FROM  THE  LANTERN  DECK    289 

"  She  would  n't  if  Cap'n  Joe  was  n't  at  the 
tiller,"  said  the  skipper,  with  a  laugh.  "  Ye 
can't  drown  him  no  more  'n  a  water-rat."  He 
had  an  abiding  faith  in  Captain  Joe  almost  as 
great  as  that  of  Aunty  Bell. 

Sanford's  face  brightened.  An  overwhelm- 
ing anxiety  for  the  safety  of  the  endangered 
men  had  strangely,  almost  unaccountably  un- 
nerved him.  It  was  some  comfort  to  feel  Cap- 
tain Brandt's  confidence  in  Captain  Joe's  ability 
to  meet  the  situation ;  for  that  little  cockle-shell 
battling  before  him  as  if  for  its  very  life  —  one 
moment  on  top  of  a  mountain  of  water,  and  the 
next  buried  out  of  sight  —  held  between  its  frail 
sides  not  only  two  of  the  best  men  whom  he 
knew,  but  really  two  of  the  master  spirits  of 
their  class.  One  of  them,  Captain  Joe,  Sanford 
admired  more  than  any  other  man,  loving  him, 
too,  as  he  had  loved  but  few. 

With  a  smile  to  the  skipper,  he  looked  off 
again  toward  the  sea.  He  saw  the  struggling 
boat  make  a  fourth  attempt  to  clear  the  Point, 
and  in  the  movement  lurch  wildly ;  he  saw,  too, 
that  her  long  boom  was  swaying  from  side  to 
side.  Through  the  driving  spray  he  made  out 
that  two  of  the  dots  were  trying  to  steady  it. 
The  third  dot  was  standing  in  the  stern. 

Here  some  new  movement  caught  his  eye. 
He  strained  his  neck  forward  ;  then  taking  the 
glass  from  the  skipper  watched  the  little  craft 
intently. 


290        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

"There's  something  the  matter,"  he  said 
nervously,  after  a  moment's  pause.  "  That 's 
Captain  Joe  waving  to  one  of  those  two  smacks 
out  there  scudding  in  under  close  reefs.  Look 
yourself ;  am  I  right,  Tony  ? "  and  he  passed 
the  glass  to  the  keeper  again. 

"Looks  like  it,  sir,"  replied  Tony  in  a  low 
tone,  the  end  of  the  glass  fixed  on  the  tossing 
boat.  "  The  smack  sees  'em  now,  sir.  She 's 
goin'  about." 

The  fishing-smack  careened,  fluttered  in  the 
wind  like  a  baffled  pigeon,  and  bore  across  to 
the  plunging  boat. 

"The  spray's  a-flyin'  so  ye  can't  see  clear, 
sir,"  said  the  keeper,  his  eye  still  at  the  glass. 
"  She  ain't  actin'  right,  somehow ;  that  boom 
seems  to  bother  'em.  Cap'n  Joe 's  runnin' 
for'ard.  Gosh  !  that  one  went  clean  over  'er. 
Look  out !  Look  out ! "  in  quick  crescendo,  as 
if  the  endangered  crew  could  have  heard  him. 
"  See  'er  take  'em  !  There 's  another  went  clean 
across.  My  God,  Mr.  Sanford  !  she  's  over,  — 
capsized !  " 

Sanford  made  a  rush  for  the  staircase,  a  rash, 
unreasonable  impulse  to  help  taking  possession  of 
him.     The  keeper  caught  him  firmly  by  the  arm. 

"  Come  back,  sir !  You  're  only  wastin'  yer 
breath.     That  smack '11  get  'em." 

Captain  Brandt  picked  up  the  glass  that  the 
keeper  had  dropped.  His  hands  shook  so  he 
could  hardly  adjust  the  lens. 


FROM  THE  LANTERN  DECK    291 

"The  boom's  broke,"  he  said  in  a  trembling 
voice  ;  "  that 's  what  ails  'em.  She 's  bottom 
side  up.  Lord,  if  she  ain't  a-wallowin' !  I 
never  'spected  to  see  Cap'n  Joe  in  a  hole  like 
that.  They  're  all  three  in  th'  water ;  ain't  a 
man  livin'  can  swim  ashore  in  that  sea !  Why 
don't  that  blamed  smack  go  about  ?  They  '11 
sink  'fore  she  can  get  to  'em.  Where 's  the 
cap'n  ?  He  ain't  come  up  yet.  There 's  Lonny 
and  Caleb,  but  I  don't  see  Cap'n  Joe  nowhere." 

Sanford  leaned  against  the  brass  rail  of  the 
great  lens,  his  eyes  on  the  fishing-smack  swoop- 
ing down  to  the  rescue.  The  helplessness  of 
his  position,  his  absolute  inability  to  help  the 
drowning  men,  overwhelmed  him  :  Captain  Joe 
and  Caleb  perishing  before  his  eyes,  and  he 
powerless  to  lift  a  hand. 

"  Do  you  see  the  captain  anywhere  ? "  he 
asked,  with  an  effort  at  self-control.  The  words 
seemed  to  clog  his  throat. 

"  Not  yet,  sir,  but  there 's  Lonny,  and  there 's 
Caleb.  You  look,  Mr.  Marvin,"  he  said,  turn- 
ing to  the  keeper.  He  could  not  trust  himself 
any  longer.  For  the  first  time  his  faith  in  Cap- 
tain Joe  had  failed  him. 

Marvin  held  the  glass  to  his  eye  and  covered 
the  boat.     He  hardly  dared  breathe. 

"Can't  see  but  two,  sir."  His  voice  was 
broken  and  husky.  "  Can't  make  out  the  cap'n 
nowheres.  Something  must  'a'  struck  him  an' 
stunned  him.     My  —  my  —  ain't  it  a  shame  for 


292        CALEB   WEST,    MASTER   DIVER 

him  to  cut  up  a  caper  like  this !  I  allers  told 
Cap'n  Joe  he  'd  get  hurted  in  some  foolish  kick- 
up.  Why  in  hell  don't  them  other  fellers  do 
something  ?  If  they  don't  look  out,  the  Dolly  '11 
drift  so  far  they  '11  lose  him,  —  standin'  there 
like  two  dummies  an'  lettin'  a  man  drown ! 
Lord  !  Lord  !  ain't  it  too  bad  !  "  The  keeper's 
eyes  filled.     Everything  was  dim  before  him. 

The  skipper  sank  on  the  oil-chest  and  bowed 
his  head.  Sanford's  hands  were  over  his  face. 
If  the  end  had  come,  he  did  not  want  to  see  it. 

The  small,  close  lantern  became  as  silent  as 
a  death-chamber.  The  keeper,  his  back  against 
the  lens  rail,  folded  his  arms  across  his  chest 
and  stared  out  to  sea.  His. face  bore  the  look 
of  one  watching  a  dying  man.  Sanford  did 
not  move.  His  thoughts  were  on  Aunty  Bell. 
What  should  he  say  to  her?  Was  there  not 
something  he  could  have  done  ?  Should  he 
not,  after  all,  have  hailed  the  first  tug  in  the 
harbor  and  gone  in  search  of  them  before  it 
was  too  late  ? 

The  seconds  dragged.  The  silence  in  its 
intensity  became  unbearable.  With  a  deep  in- 
drawn sigh,  Captain  Brandt  turned  toward  San- 
ford and  touched  him.  "  Come  away,"  he  said, 
with  the  tenderness  of  one  strong  man  who 
suffers  and  is  stirred  with  greater  sorrow  by 
another's  grief.  "This  ain't  no  place  for  you, 
Mr.  Sanford.     Come  away." 

Sanford  raised  his  eyes  and  was  about  to 


FROM  THE  LANTERN  DECK    293 

speak,  when  the  keeper  threw  up  his  arms  with 
a  joyous  shout  and  seized  the  glass.  "There 
he  is  !  I  see  his  cap  !  That 's  Cap'n  Joe  ! 
He 's  holdin'  up  his  hands.  Caleb 's  crawlin' 
along  the  bottom ;  he 's  reachin'  down  an'  haul- 
in'  Cap'n  Joe  up.     Now  he's  on  'er  keel." 

Sanford  and  Captain  Brandt  sprang  to  their 
feet,  crowding  close  to  the  lantern  glass,  their 
eyes  fastened  on  the  Dolly.  Sanford' s  hands 
were  trembling.  Hot,  quick  tears  rolled  down 
his  cheeks  and  dropped  from  his  chin.  The 
joyful  news  had  unnerved  him  more  than  the 
horror  of  the  previous  moments.  There  was 
no  doubt  of  its  truth ;  he  could  see,  even  with 
the  naked  eye,  the  captain  lying  flat  on  the 
boat's  keel.  He  thought  he  could  follow  every 
line  of  his  body,  —  never  so  precious  as  now. 

"  He  's  all  right,"  he  said  in  a  dazed  way  — 
"all  right  — all  right,"  repeating  it  mechanically 
over  and  over  to  himself,  as  a  child  would  do. 
Then  he  turned  and  laid  his  hand  on  the 
keeper's  shoulder. 

"  Thank  God,  Tony  !     Thank  God  ! " 

The  keeper's  hand  closed  tight  in  Sanford's. 
For  a  moment  he  did  not  speak. 

"  Almighty  close  shave,  sir,"  he  said  slowly 
in  a  broken  whisper,  looking  into  Sanford's. 
eyes. 

Captain  Brandt's  face  was  radiant.  "  Might 
'a'  knowed  he'd  come  up  some'ers,  sir. 
Did  n't  I  tell  ye,  ye  could  n't  drown  him  ?     But 


294        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

where  in  thunder  has  he  been  under  water  all 
this  time  ? "  he  asked,  with  a  laugh  that  had 
the  unshed  tears  of  a  strong  man  in  it,  and  the 
exultation  of  one  just  recovered  from  a  fright 
that  had  almost  unnerved  him.  The  laugh  not 
only  expressed  his  joy  at  the  great  relief,  but 
carried  with  it  a  reminder  that  he  had  never 
seriously  doubted  the  captain's  ability  to  save 
himself. 

All  eyes  were  now  fastened  on  the  rescuing 
smack.  As  she  swept  past  the  capsized  boat, 
her  crew  leaned  far  over  the  side,  reached  down 
and  caught  two  of  the  shipwrecked  men,  leav- 
ing one  man  still  clinging  to  the  keel,  the  sea 
breaking  over  him  every  moment.  Sanford 
took  the  glass,  and  saw  that  this  man  was 
Lonny  Bowles,  and  that  Captain  Joe,  now  safe 
aboard  the  smack,  was  waving  his  cap  to  the 
second  smack,  which  hove  to  in  answer.  Pre- 
sently the  hailed  smack  rounded  in,  lowered 
her  mainsail,  and  hauled  Lonny  aboard.  She 
then  took  the  overturned  Dolly  in  tow,  and 
made  at  once  for  the  harbor.  When  this  was 
done,  the  first  smack,  with  Captain  Joe  and 
Caleb  on  board,  shook  a  reef  from  its  mainsail, 
turned  about,  and  despite  the  storm  laid  a 
straight  course  back  to  the  Ledge. 

This  daring  and  apparently  hopeless  attempt 
of  Captain  Joe  to  carry  out  his  plan  of  going  to 
the  Ledge  awoke  a  new  anxiety  in  Sanford. 
There  was  no  longer  the  question  of  personal 


«  Thank  God,  Tony  /    Thank  God!  " 


FROM  THE  LANTERN  DECK    295 

danger  to  the  captain  or  the  men ;  the  fishing- 
smack  was,  of  course,  a  better  sea  boat  than  the 
Dolly,  but  why  make  the  trip  at  all  when  the 
pump  had  been  lost  from  the  overturned  boat, 
and  no  one  could  land  at  the  Ledge  ?  Even 
from  where  they  all  stood  in  the  lantern  they 
could  see  the  big  rollers  flash  white  as  they 
broke  over  the  enrockment  blocks,  the  spray 
drenching  the  tops  of  the  derricks.  No  small 
boat  could  live  in  such  a  sea,  —  not  even  the 
life-boat  at  the  Ledge. 

As  the  incoming  smack  drew  near,  Sanford, 
followed  by  the  keeper  and  Captain  Brandt, 
hurried  down  the  spiral  staircase  and  into  the 
keeper's  room  below,  where  they  drew  on  their 
coats  and  heavy  boots,  and  made  their  way  to 
the  lighthouse  dock. 

When  she  came  within  hailing  distance,  Cap- 
tain Brandt  mounted  a  spile  and  shouted  above 
the  roar  of  the  gale,  "  Bowles,  ahoy  !  Anybody 
hurt,  Lonny  ?  " 

A  man  in  a  red  shirt  detached  himself  from 
among  the  group  of  men  huddled  in  the  smack's 
bow,  stepped  on  the  rail,  and,  putting  his  hands 
to  his  mouth,  trumpeted  back,  "  No  !  " 

"  What 's  the  cap'n  gone  to  the  Ledge  for  ? " 

"  Gone  to  set  the  pump  !  " 

"Thought  the  pump  was  lost  overboard!" 
cried  Sanford. 

"No,  sir;  cap'n  dived  under  the  Dolly  an' 
found  it  catched  fast,  an'  Caleb  hauled  it  aboard. 


296        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

Cap'n  tol'  me  to  tell  ye  that  he  'd  hev  it  set  all 
right  to-day,  blow  or  no" —  The  last  words 
were  lost  in  the  wind. 

"Ain't  that  jes'  like  the  cap'n  ?"  shouted  the 
keeper,  with  a  loud  laugh,  slapping  his  thigh 
with  his  hand.  "  That  's  where  he  was  when 
we  thought  he  was  drownded,  —  he  was  a-divin' 
fer  that  pump.  Land  o'  Moses,  ain't  he  a  good 
un!" 

Captain  Brandt  said  nothing,  but  a  smile  of 
happy  pride  overspread  his  face.  Captain  Joe 
was  still  his  hero. 

Sanford  spent  the  afternoon  between  Aunty 
Bell's  kitchen  and  the  paraphernalia  dock,  strain- 
ing his  eyes  seaward  in  search  of  an  incoming 
smack  which  would  bring  the  captain.  The 
wind  had  shifted  to  the  northwest,  sweeping  out 
the  fog  and  piling  the  low  clouds  in  heaps. 
The  rain  had  ceased,  and  a  dash  of  pale  lemon 
light  shone  above  the  blue-gray  sea. 

About  sundown  his  quick  eye  detected  a  tiny 
sail  creeping  in  behind  Crotch  Island.  As  it 
neared  the  harbor  and  he  made  out  the  lines  of 
the  fishing-smack  of  the  morning,  a  warm  glow 
tingled  through  him  ;  it  would  not  be  long  now 
before  he  had  his  hands  on  Captain  Joe. 

When  the  smack  came  bowling  into  the  har- 
bor under  double  reefs,  her  wind-blown  jib  a 
cup,  her  sail  a  saucer,  and  rounded  in  as  grace- 
ful as  a  skater  on  the  outer  edge,  Sanford's 


FROM  THE  LANTERN  DECK    297 

hand  was  the  first  that  touched  the  captain's 
as  he  sprang  from  the  smack's  deck  to  the 
dock. 

"  Captain  Joe,"  he  said.  His  voice  broke  as 
he  spoke  ;  all  his  love  was  in  his  eyes.  "  Don't 
ever  do  that  again.  I  saw  it  all  from  the  light- 
house lantern.  You  have  no  right  to  risk  your 
life  this  way." 

"'T  ain't  nothin',  Mr.  Sanford."  His  great 
hand  closed  tight  over  that  of  the  young  engi- 
neer. "It  's  all  right  now,  and  the  pump  's 
screwed  fast.  Caleb  had  steam  up  on  the  h'ister 
when  I  left  him  on  the  Ledge.  Boom  on  the 
Dolly  had  n't  'a'  broke  short  off  out  there,  we  'd 
'a'  been  there  sooner." 

"  We  thought  you  were  gone,  once,"  continued 
Sanford,  his  voice  full  of  anxiety,  still  holding 
to  the  captain's  hand  as  they  walked  toward 
the  house. 

"  Not  in  the  Dolly,  sir,"  the  captain  answered 
in  an  apologetic  tone,  as  if  he  wanted  to  atone 
for  the  suffering  he  had  caused  his  friend. 
"  She  's  got  wood  enough  in  'er  to  float  any- 
wheres.    That 's  what  I  took  'er  out  for." 

Aunty  Bell  met  them  at  the  kitchen  door. 

"  I  hearn  ye  was  overboard,"  she  said  quietly, 
no  more  stirred  over  the  day's  experience  than 
if  some  child  had  stepped  into  a  puddle  and  had 
come  in  for  a  change  of  shoes.  "  Ye  're  wet 
yet,  be  n't  ye  ? "  patting  his  big  chest  to  make 
sure. 


298        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

"  Yes,  guess  so,"  he  answered  carelessly,  feel- 
ing his  own  arms  as  if  to  satisfy  himself  as  to 
the  reason  of  his  wife's  inquiry.  "  Got  a  dry 
shirt?" 

"  Yes ;  got  everything  hangin'  there  on  a  chair 
'fore  the  kitchen  fire,"  and  she  closed  the  door 
upon  him  and  Sanford. 

"  Beats  all,  Mr.  Sanford,  don't  it  ? "  the  cap- 
tain continued  in  short  sentences,  broken  by 
breathless  pauses,  as  he  stripped  off  his  wet 
clothes  before  the  blazing  fire,  one  jerk  for  the 
suspenders,  another  for  the  trousers,  Sanford, 
jubilant  over  the  captain's  safety  and  eager  to 
do  him  any  service,  handing  him  the  dry  gar- 
ments one  after  another. 

"  Beats  all,  I  say ;  don't  it,  now  ?  There  's 
that  Cap'n  Potts :  been  a  seaman,  man  an'  boy, 
all  his  life," — here  the  grizzled  wet  head  was 
hidden  for  a  moment  as  a  clean  flannel  shirt 
was  drawn  over  it,  —  "yet  he  ain't  got  sense 
'nough  to  keep  a  boom  from  rottin'  'board  a 
cat-boat," — the  head  was  up  now,  and  Sanford, 
fumbling  under  the  chin  whisker,  was  helping 
the  captain  with  the  top  button,  —  "an'  snap- 
pin'  square  off  in  a  little  gale  o'  wind  like  that. 
There,  thank  ye,  guess  that  '11  do." 

When  he  had  seated  himself  in  his  chair,  his 
sturdy  legs  —  stout  and  tough  as  two  dock-logs 
—  stretched  out  before  the  fire,  his  rough  hands 
spread  to  the  blaze,  warming  the  big,  strong 
body  that  had  been  soaking  wet  for  ten  consec- 


FROM  THE  LANTERN  DECK    299 

utive  hours,  Sanford  took  a  seat  beside  him, 
and,  laying  his  hand  on  his  knee,  said  in  a 
gentle  voice,  "Why  did  you  risk  your  life  for 
that  pump,  Captain  Joe  ? " 

"'Cause  she  acted  so  durned  ornery,"  he 
blurted  out  in  an  angry  tone.  "  Jes'  see  what 
she  did :  gin  out  night  'fore  last  jes'  's  we  was 
gittin'  ready  to  h'ist  that  big  stretcher ;  kep'  me 
an'  Caleb  up  two  nights  a-castin'  an'  borin'  on 
'er  out ;  then  all  of  a  sudden  she  thought  she  'd 
upset  an'  fool  us.  I  tell  ye,  ye  've  got  to  take 
hold  of  a  thing  like  that  good  an'  early,  or  it  '11 
git  away  with  ye." 

One  hand  was  swung  high  over  his  head  as 
if  it  had  been  a  sledge-hammer. 

"  Now  she  '11  stay  put  till  I  git  through  with 
her.  I  ain't  a-goin'  to  let  no  damned  pump  beat 
me!" 


CHAPTER  XX 

AT    THE    PINES 

The  Indian  summer  days  had  come,  —  soft, 
dreamy  days  of  red  and  gold,  with  veils  of 
silver  mist  at  sunrise,  and  skeins  of  purple 
clouds  at  twilight.  The  air  was  hazy  with  the 
smoke  of  dull  fires  smouldering  on  the  hill- 
side. The  stems  of  the  bare  birches  shone 
white ;  wreaths  of  scarlet  crowned  the  low 
stone  walls  ;  dead  leaves  strewed  the  lawns, 
and  tall  chrysanthemums  flamed  in  the  garden- 
beds.  Here  and  there  a  belated  summer  rose, 
braving  the  cold,  shivered  with  close-folded  lips, 
or  hung  head  down,  pierced  by  the  night-frost. 

Sanford  had  shifted  his  quarters  from  the 
little  room  over  Captain  Joe's  kitchen  to  the 
big  east  room  at  The  Pines,  opening  out  upon  a 
wide  balcony,  from  which  he  could  see  with  his 
glass  the  feathers  of  white  steam  on  the  Ledge; 
His  apartments  in  Washington  Square  had 
been  closed,  and  Sam  ordered  to  join  his  mas- 
ter at  Keyport,  where  he  found  himself  pro- 
moted from  the  position  of  man-of-all-work  to 
that  of  valet-in-chief,  with  especial  instructions 
to  report  daily  to  Buckles,   who  grew  more 


AT   THE   PINES  301 

reticent  and  imposing  by  reason  of  the  added 
charge. 

And  with  the  dreamy  days  came  Helen  and 
Jack  ;  Smearly  with  a  big  canvas,  which  he 
never  afterward  touched  ;  and  the  major,  with 
a  nondescript  wardrobe,  as  curious  as  it  was 
astonishing. 

To  Helen  The  Pines  was  a  land  of  romance 
and  charm.  She  had  been  brought  up  in  the 
country,  and  loved  its  quiet,  the  rest  of  its  shady 
lanes  and  cool  woods,  and  the  life  it  brought. 
The  city  had  charmed  her  at  first.  She  liked 
its  novelty,  its  theatres,  galleries,  and  crowded 
streets,  but  long  before  her  visit  in  town  was 
done,  she  had  begun  to  sigh  for  green  fields, 
and  rose  gardens,  and  the  freedom  of  her  young 
days  at  home.  She  had  passed  the  summer 
with  her  school  friends,  Jack  spending  his 
Sundays  with  her  whenever  he  could  manage 
an  invitation.  But  the  homes  of  her  friends 
had  been  simple  ones,  with  none  of  the  luxury 
and  comfort  and  the  poetry  of  The  Pines. 

Mrs.  Leroy  had  begun  at  once  on  her  arrival 
to  carry  out  her  promise  to  give  the  young 
Maryland  girl  one  more  good  time  before  that 
"Bluebeard  Jack  bound  her  hand  and  foot." 
She  had  done  this  as  much  from  a  sincere  in- 
terest in  Helen,  as  from  a  sense  of  duty  to 
Jack  and  Sanford.  She  had  not,  as  yet,  com- 
pletely won  the  girl's  confidence.  The  talk 
with  Smearly,  in  which  Mrs.  Leroy  had  cried 


302        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

out  against  the  marriage  relation,  still  lingered 
in  Helen's  mind.  Its  last  impression  wore 
away  only  when  Kate  had  taken  her  out  on  the 
lawn,  on  the  second  morning  of  her  visit,  to 
show  her  a  secluded  summer-house  smothered 
in  climbing  vines  and  overlooking  the  water. 

"  This  is  for  you  and  Jack,"  she  had  said, 
with  a  merry  twinkle  in  her  eye  and  a  depth 
of  tenderness  in  her  tone.  "  And  for  nobody 
else,  dear.  Not  a  soul  will  be  able  to  find  you." 
Though  Helen  had  laughed  and  said  that  she 
and  Jack  had  been  engaged  too  long  to  need 
such  retirement,  every  succeeding  morning 
had  found  them  there,  oblivious  to  the  outside 
world  until  aroused  by  a  peculiar  shuffling 
sound  on  the  gravel,  followed  by  a  warning 
cough. 

"  Lunch  ready,  Marse  Jack,  —  so  de  waiter- 
man  says." 

It  was  always  Sam,  —  his  face  as  full  of 
smiles  as  a  suddenly  disturbed  puddle  is  of 
ripples. 

But  if  The  Pines  was  an  enchanted  realm  to 
Helen  and  Jack,  a  refreshing  retreat  to  San- 
ford,  and  a  mine  of  luxury  to  Smearly,  to  the 
major  it  was  a  never  ending  source  of  pure 
delight. 

Until  that  day  on  which  he  had  stepped 
within  its  portals,  his  experience  of  Northern 
hospitality  had  been  confined  to  Jack's  and 
Sanford's  bachelor  apartments,  for  years  ideal 


AT   THE   PINES  303 

realms  of  elegance  and  ease.  These  now 
seemed  to  him  both  primitive  and  meagre. 
Where  Jack  had  but  one  room  to  spare  for  a 
friend,  and  Sanford  but  two,  The  Pines  had 
whole  suites  opening  into  corridors  terminat- 
ing in  vistas  of  entrancing  lounging-places, 
with  marvelous  fittings  and  draperies.  Where 
Sam  and  Jefferson,  in  their  respective  estab- 
lishments, performed  unaided  every  household 
duty,  from  making  a  cocktail  to  making  a  bed, 
The  Pines  boasted  two  extra  men,  who  assisted 
Buckles  at  the  sideboard,  to  say  nothing  of 
countless  maids,  gardeners,  hostlers,  stable- 
boys,  and  lesser  dependents. 

Moreover,  the  major  had  come  upon  a  most 
capacious  carriage-house  and  out-buildings, 
sheltering  a  wonderful  collection  of  drags, 
coupes,  and  phaetons  of  patterns  never  seen 
by  him  before, — particularly  a  most  surpris- 
ing dog-cart  with  canary-colored  wheels ;  and 
a  stable  full  of  satin-skinned  horses  with  in- 
credible pedigrees,  together  with  countless 
harnesses  mounted  in  silver,  and  decorated 
with  monograms.  Last,  but  by  no  means 
least,  he  had  discovered,  to  his  infinite  joy,  a 
spick-and-span  perfectly  appointed  steam  yacht, 
with  sailing-master,  engineer,  firemen,  and 
crew  constantly  on  board,  and  all  ready,  at  a 
moment's  notice,  to  steam  off  to  the  uttermost 
parts  of  the  earth  in  search  of  booty  or  adven- 
ture. 


304        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

The  major  had  found,  in  fact,  all  that  his 
wildest  flights  and  his  most  mendacious  ima- 
ginings had  pictured.  The  spacious  piazzas, 
velvet  lawns,  and  noble  parks  of  which  he  had 
so  often  boasted  as  being  "upon  the  estate 
of  a  ve'y  dear  friend  of  mine  up  No'th,  suh, 
where  I  spend  so  many  happy  days ; "  the 
wonderful  cuisine,  fragrant  Havanas,  crusty 
port  and  old  Hennessy,  —  the  property  as  well 
of  this  diaphanous  gentleman,  —  had  at  last  be- 
come actual  realities.  The  women  of  charm- 
ing mien  and  apparel,  so  long  creations  of  his 
brain,  — "  Dianas,  suh,  clothed  one  hour  in 
yachtin'-jackets,  caps,  and  dainty  yellow  shoes, 
and  the  next  in  webs  of  gossamer,  their  lovely 
faces  shaded  by  ravishin'  pa'asols  and  crowned 
by  wonderful  hats,"  —  now  floated  daily  along 
the  very  gravel  walks  that  his  own  feet  pressed, 
or  were  attended  nightly  by  gay  gallants  in 
immaculate  black  and  white,  whose  elbows 
touched  his  own. 

Of  all  these  luxuries  had  he  dreamed  for 
years,  and  about  all  these  luxuries  had  he  lied, 
descanting  on  their  glories  by  the  hour  to  that 
silent  group  of  thirsty  Pocomokians  before  the 
village  bar,  or  to  the  untraveled  neighbors  who 
lightened  with  their  presence  the  lonely  hours 
at  Crab  Island.  But  never  until  Mrs.  Leroy 
had  opened  wide  to  him  the  portals  of  The 
Pines  had  they  been  real  to  his  sight  and 
touch. 


AT   THE    PINES  305 

It  is  not  to  be  wondered  at,  therefore,  that 
with  the  flavor  of  all  this  magnificence  steep- 
ing his  soul  a  gradual  change  took  place  in  his 
tone  and  demeanor.  Before  a  week  had  passed 
he  had  somehow  persuaded  himself  that  al- 
though the  lamp  of  Aladdin  was  exclusively  the 
property  of  Mrs.  Leroy,  the  privilege  of  rub- 
bing it  was  unquestionably  his  own.  Gradu- 
ally, and  by  the  same  mental  process,  he  had 
become  convinced  that  he  was  not  only  firmly 
installed  in  the  Leroy  household  as  High  Rub- 
ber-in-Chief,  the  master  of  the  house  being 
temporarily  absent,  and  there  being  no  one 
else  to  fill  his  place,  but  that  the  office,  if  not 
a  life  position,  at  least  would  last  long  enough 
to  tide  him  over  until  cold  weather  set  in. 

At  first  Mrs.  Leroy  looked  on  in  amazement, 
and  then,  as  the  humor  of  the  situation  dawned 
upon  her,  gave  him  free  rein  to  do  as  he  would. 
Months  ago  she  had  seen  through  his  harm- 
less assumptions,  and  his  present  pretensions 
amused  her  immensely. 

"  My  dear  madam,"  he  would  say,  "  I  see  the 
lines  of  care  about  yo'r  lovely  eyes.  Let  me 
take  you  a  spin  down  the  shell  road  in  that 
yaller  cyart.  It  will  bring  the  roses  back  to 
your  cheeks."  Or,  "  Sanford,  my  dear  fellow, 
try  one  of  those  Reina  Victorias  ;  you  '11  find 
them  much  lighter.  Buckles,  open  a  fresh 
box." 

It  is  worthy  of  note,  too,  that  when  once  the 


306        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

surprise  at  the  novelty  of  the  situation  had 
passed  away,  his  hostess  soon  realized  that  no 
one  cj^d  have  filled  the  post  of  major-domo 
to  better  satisfaction.  The  same  qualities  that 
served  him  at  Crab  Island,  making  him  the  best 
of  company  when  off  on  an  outing  with  the 
boys,  were  displayed  in  even  greater  perfection 
at  The  Pines.  He  was  courteous,  good-hu- 
mored, unselfish,  watchful  of  everybody's  com- 
fort, buoyant  as  a  rubber  ball,  and  ultimately 
so  self-poised  that  even  Buckles  began  to  stand 
in  awe  of  him,  —  a  victory,  by  the  way,  which 
so  delighted  Jack  Hardy  that  he  rolled  over 
on  the  grass  with  shouts  of  laughter  when  he 
discussed  it  with  Sanford  and  Smearly. 

Nor  were  the  greater  duties  neglected.  He 
was  constantly  on  the  lookout  for  various  de- 
vices by  which  his  hostess  might  be  relieved 
in  the  care  of  her  guests.  Tennis  tournaments, 
fishing  parties,  and  tableaux  followed  in  quick 
succession,  each  entertainment  the  result  of 
his  ingenious  activity  and  his  untiring  efforts 
at  making  everybody  happy. 

This  daily  routine  of  gayety  was  interrupted 
by  the  important  announcement  that  a  com- 
mittee of  engineers,  headed  by  General  Bar- 
ton, would  inspect  the  work  at  Shark  Ledge. 

This  visit  of  the  engineers  meant  to  Sanford 
a  possible  solution  of  his  difficulties.  Carleton 
still  withheld  the  certificate,  and  the  young 
engineer  had  had  the  greatest  difficulty  in  tid- 


AT   THE   PINES  307 

ing  over  his  payments.  A  second  and  last 
section  of  the  work  was  nearly  completed, 
thanks  to  the  untiring  efforts  of  Captain  Joe 
and  his  men  and  to  the  stability  of  the  machin- 
ery, and  there  was  every  probability  that  now 
these  two  sections  would  be  finished  before 
the  snow  began  to  fly.  This  had  been  the 
main  purpose  of  Sanford's  summer,  and  the 
end  was  in  sight.  And  yet,  with  all  that  had 
been  accomplished,  Sanford  knew  that  a  tech- 
nical ruling  of  the  Board  in  sustaining  Carle- 
ton's  unjust  report  when  rejecting  the  work 
might  delay  his  payments  for  months,  and  if 
prolonged  through  the  winter  might  eventually 
ruin  him. 

The  inspection,  then,  was  all  the  more  im- 
portant at  this  time ;  for  while  the  solidity  of 
the  masonry  and  the  care  with  which  it  was 
constructed  would  speak  for  themselves,  the 
details  must  be  seen  and  inspected  to  be  appre- 
ciated. If  the  day,  therefore,  were  fine  and  the 
committee  able  to  land  on  the  Ledge,  Sanford 
had  no  fear  of  the  outcome,  —  provided,  of 
course,  that  Carleton  could  be  made  to  speak 
the  truth. 

There  was  no  question  that  parts  of  the  work 
as  they  then  stood  were  in  open  violation  of  the 
plans  and  specifications  of  the  contract.  The 
concrete  base,  or  disk,  was  acknowledged  by 
Sanford  to  be  six  inches  out  of  level.  This 
error  was  due  to  the  positive  orders  of  Carleton 


308        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

against  the  equally  positive  protest  of  Sanford 
and  Captain  Joe.  But  the  question  still  re- 
mained, whether  the  Board  would  sustain  Carle- 
ton's  refusal  to  give  a  certificate  in  view  of  the 
error,  and  whether  Carleton  could  be  made 
to  admit  that  the  error  was  his  own,  and  not 
Sanford's. 

So  far  as  the  permanence  of  the  structure 
was  concerned,  this  six  inches'  rise  over  so 
large  an  area  as  the  base  was  immaterial.  The 
point  —  a  vital  one  —  was  whether  the  techni- 
cal requirements  of  the  contract  would  be  in- 
sisted upon.  Its  final  decision  lay  with  the 
Board. 

To  Mrs.  Leroy  the  occasion  was  one  of  more 
than  usual  importance.  She  sent  for  the  sail- 
ing-master, ordered  steam  up  at  an  early  hour, 
gave  Sam  —  Buckles  had  assigned  Sam  to  cer- 
tain duties  aboard  the  yacht  —  particular  di- 
rections as  to  luncheon  the  following  day,  and 
prepared  to  entertain  the  whole  committee, 
provided  that  august  body  could  be  induced  to 
accept  the  invitation  she  meant  to  extend.  She 
had  already  selected  General  Barton  as  her 
especial  victim,  while  Helen  was  to  make  her- 
self agreeable  to  some  of  the  younger  members. 

The  value  of  linen,  glass,  cut  flowers,  dry 
champagne,  and  pretty  toilettes  in  settling  any 
of  the  affairs  of  life  was  part  of  her  social  train- 
ing, and  while  she  did  not  propose  to  say  one 
word  in  defense  or  commendation  of  Sanford 


AT  THE   PINES  309 

and  his  work,  she  fully  intended  so  to  soften 
the  rough  edges  of  the  chief  engineer  and  his 
assistants  that  any  adverse  ruling  would  be 
well-nigh  impossible. 

If  Mrs.  Leroy  lent  a  cheerful  and  willing 
hand,  the  presiding  genius  of  the  weather  was 
equally  considerate.  The  morning  broke  clear 
and  bright.  The  sun  silvered  the  tall  grass  of 
the  wide  marsh  crossed  by  the  railroad  trestle 
and  draw,  and  illumined  the  great  clouds  of 
white  steam  puffed  out  by  the  passing  trains. 
The  air  was  balmy  and  soft,  the  sky  a  turquoise 
flecked  with  sprays  of  pearl,  the  sea  a  sheet 
of  silver. 

When  the  maid  opened  her  windows,  Mrs. 
•Leroy  stepped  to  the  balcony  and  drank  in  the 
beauty  and  freshness  of  the  morning.  Even 
the  weather  powers,  she  said  to  herself,  had 
ceased  hostilities,  and  declared  a  truce  for  the 
day,  restraining  .their  turbulent  winds  until  the 
council  of  war  which  was  to  decide  Sanford's 
fate  was  over. 

As  her  eye  roamed  over  her  perfectly  ap- 
pointed and  well-kept  lawns,  her  attention  was 
drawn  to  a  singular-looking  figure  crossing  the 
grass  in  the  direction  of  the  dock  where  the 
yacht  was  moored.  It  was  that  of  a  man  dressed 
in  the  jacket  and  cap  of  a  club  commodore. 
He  bore  himself  with  the  dignity  of  a  lord  high 
admiral  walking  the  quarter-deck.  Closer  in- 
spection revealed  the  manly  form  of  no  less 


310        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

distinguished  a  personage  than  Major  Thomas 
Slocomb  of  Pocomoke. 

Subsequent  inquiries  disclosed  these  facts  : 
Finding  in  his  room  the  night  before  a  hitherto 
unsuspected  closet  door  standing  partly  open, 
the  major  had,  in  harmless  curiosity,  entered 
the  closet  and  inspected  the  contents,  and  had 
come  upon  some  attractive  garments.  That 
these  clothes  had  evidently  been  worn  by  and 
were  then  the  sole  property  of  his  host,  Mor- 
gan Leroy,  Commodore  N.  Y.  Y.  C,  a  man 
whom  he  had  never  seen,  only  added  to  the 
charm  of  the  discovery.  Instantly  a  dozen 
thoughts  crowded  through  his  head,  —  each 
more  seductive  than  the  other.  Evidently  this 
open  door  and  this  carefully  hung  jacket  and 
cap  meant  something  out  of  the  ordinary  !  It 
was  the  first  time  the  door  had  been  left  open  ! 
It  had  been  done  purposely,  of  course,  that  he 
might  see  its  contents !  Everything  in  this 
wonderful  palace  of  luxury  was  free,  —  cigars, 
brandy,  even  the  stamps  on  the  writing-table 
before  him,  —  why  not,  then,  these  yachting 
clothes  ?  To-morrow  was  the  great  day  for 
the  yacht,  when  the  inspection  of  the  engi- 
neers was  to  take  place.  His  age  and  position 
naturally  made  him  the  absent  commodore's 
rightful  successor.  Had  Leroy  been  at  home, 
he  would,  undoubtedly,  have  worn  these  clothes 
himself.  The  duty  of  his  substitute,  therefore, 
was  too  plain  to  admit  of  a  moment's  hesita- 


AT   THE    PINES  311 

tion.  He  must  certainly  wear  the  clothes. 
One  thing,  however,  touched  him  deeply,  — 
the  delicacy  of  his  hostess  in  putting  them 
where  he  could  find  them,  and  the  exquisite 
tact  with  which  it  had  all  been  done.  Even 
if  all  other  considerations  failed,  he  could  not 
disappoint  that  queen  among  women,  that 
Cleopatra  of  modern  times. 

As  he  squeezed  his  arms  into  the  jacket  — 
Leroy  was  two  thirds  his  size  —  and  caught 
the  glint  of  the  gilt  buttons  in  the  mirror,  his 
last  lingering  doubt  faded. 

This,  then,  was  the  figure  Mrs.  Leroy  saw 
from  her  bedroom  window. 

When  the  major  boarded  the  yacht  the  sail- 
ing-master saluted  him  with  marked  deference, 
remembering  the  uniform,  even  if  he  did  not 
the  wearer,  and  the  sailors  holystoning  the 
decks  came  up  to  a  half  present  as  he  passed 
them  on  his  way  to  the  saloon  to  see  if  Sam 
had  carried  out  his  instructions  about  certain 
brews  necessary  for  the  comfort  of  the  day. 

11  Where  the  devil  did  you  get  that  rig,  ma- 
jor ? "  roared  Smearly,  when  he  and  Sanford 
came  down  the  companionway,  half  an  hour 
later.  "  You  look  like  a  cross  between  Dick 
Deadeye  and  Little  Lord  Fauntleroy.  It  's 
about  two  sizes  too  small  for  you." 

"  Do  you  think  so,  gentlemen  ? "  twisting 
his  back  to  the  mirrors  to  get  a  better  view. 
His  face  was  a  study.     "  It 's  some  time  since 


3i2        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

I  wore  'em ;  they  may  be  a  little  tight.  I  've 
noticed  lately  that  I  am  gaining  flesh.  Will 
you  sit  here,  gentlemen,  or  shall  I  order  some- 
thing coolin'  on  deck?"  —  not  a  quaver  in  his 
voice.  "  Here,  Sam,"  he  called,  catching  sight 
of  that  darky's  face,  "take  these  gentlemen's 
orders." 

When  Helen  and  Mrs.  Leroy  appeared,  fol- 
lowed by  several  ladies  with  Hardy  as  escort, 
the  major  sprang  forward  to  greet  them  with 
all  the  suppressed  exuberance  of  a  siphon  of 
Vichy.     He  greeted  Helen  first. 

"  Ah,  my  dear  Helen,  you  look  positively 
charmin'  this  mornin'  ;  you  are  like  a  tea-rose 
wet  with  dew ;  nothing  like  these  Maryland 
girls,  —  unless,  my  dear  madam,"  he  added, 
turning  to  Mrs.  Leroy,  bowing  as  low  to  his 
hostess  as  the  grip  of  his  shoulders  would  per- 
mit, "  unless  it  be  yo'r  own  queenly  presence. 
Sam,  put  some  cushions  behind  the  ladies'  backs, 
or  shall  I  order  coffee  for  you  on  deck  ?  " 

But  it  was  not  until  the  major  came  up  on 
the  return  curve  of  his  bow  to  a  perpendicular 
that  his  hostess  realized  in  full  the  effect  of 
Morgan  Leroy's  nautical  outfit.  She  gave  a 
little  gasp,  and  her  face  flushed. 

"  I  hope  none  of  these  ladies  will  recognize 
Morgan's  clothes,  Henry,"  she  whispered  be- 
hind her  fan  to  Sanford.  "  I  must  say  this  is 
going  a  step  too  far." 

"But  didn't  you  send  them  to   his  room, 


AT   THE   PINES  313 

Kate  ?  He  told  me  this  morning  he  wore 
them  out  of  deference  to  your  wishes.  He 
found  them  hanging  in  his  closet."  Sanford's 
face  wore  a  quizzical  smile. 

"  I  send  them  ? "  Then  the  whole  thing 
burst  upon  her.  With  the  keenest  apprecia- 
tion of  the  humor  of  the  situation  in  every  line 
of  her  face,  she  turned  to  the  major  and  said, 
"  I  must  congratulate  you,  major,  on  your  new 
outfit,  and  I  must  thank  you  for  wearing  it 
to-day.  It  was  very  good  of  you  to  put  it  on. 
It  is  an  important  occasion,  you  know,  for  Mr. 
Sanford.  Will  you  give  me  your  arm  and  take 
me  on  deck  ? " 

Helen  stared  in  complete  astonishment  as 
she  listened  to  Mrs.  Leroy.  This  last  addi- 
tion to  the  major's  constantly  increasing  ward- 
robe —  he  had  a  way  of  borrowing  the  clothes 
of  any  friend  with  whom  he  stayed  —  had  for 
the  moment  taken  her  breath  away.  It  was 
only  when  Jack  whispered  an  explanation  to 
her  that  she,  too,  entered  into  the  spirit  of  the 
scene. 

Before  the  yacht  had  passed  through  the 
draw  of  the  railroad  trestle  on  her  way  to  the 
Ledge,  the  several  guests  had  settled  them- 
selves in  the  many  nooks  and  corners  about 
the  deck  or  on  the  more  luxurious  cushions  of 
the  saloon.  Mrs.  Leroy,  now  that  her  guests 
were  happily  placed,  sat  well  forward  out  of 
immediate  hearing,  where  she  could  talk  over 


314        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

the  probable  outcome  of  the  day  with  Sanford, 
and  lay  her  plans  if  Carleton's  opposition 
threatened  serious  trouble.  Helen  and  Jack 
were  as  far  aft  as  they  could  get,  watching  the 
gulls  dive  for  scraps  thrown  from  the  galley, 
while  Smearly  in  the  saloon  below  was  the 
centre  of  a  circle  of  ladies,  —  guests  from  the 
neighboring  cottages,  —  who  were  laughing  at 
his  stories,  and  who  had,  thus  early  in  the  day, 
voted  him  the  most  entertaining  man  they  had 
ever  met,  although  a  trifle  cynical. 

As  for  the  major,  he  was  as  restless  as  a 
newsboy,  and  everywhere  at  once  :  in  the  gal- 
ley, giving  minute  directions  to  the  chef  re- 
garding the  slicing  of  the  cucumbers  and  the 
proper  mixing  of  the  salad  ;  up  in  the  pilot- 
house interviewing  the  sailing-master  on  the 
weather,  on  the  tides,  on  the  points  of  the 
wind,  on  the  various  beacons,  shoals,  and  cur- 
rents ;  and  finally  down  in  the  pantry,  where 
Sam,  in  white  apron,  immaculate  waistcoat  and 
tie,  was  polishing  some  pipe-stemmed  glasses, 
intended  receptacles  of  cooling  appetizers  com- 
posed of  some  ingredients  of  the  major's  own 
selection. 

"You  lookin'  mighty  fine,  major,  dis  morn- 
in',"  said  Sam,  his  mouth  stretched  in  a  broad 
grin.  "  Dat  's  de  tip-nist,  top-nist  git-up  I 
done  seen  fur  a  coon's  age,"  detecting  a  certain 
—  to  him  —  cake-walk  cut  to  the  coat  and 
white  duck  trousers.     "  Did  dat  come  up  on 


AT   THE   PINES  315 

de  train  las'  night,  sah  ? "  he  asked,  walking 
round  the  major,  and  wiping  a  glass  as  he 
looked  him  over  admiringly. 

"  Yes,  Sam,  and  it 's  the  first  time  I  wore 
'em.  Little  tight  in  the  sleeves,  ain't  they  ? " 
the  major  inquired,  holding  out  his  arm. 

"  Does  seem  ter  pinch  leetle  mite  round  de 
elbows  ;  but  you  do  look  good,  fur  a  fac'." 

These  little  confidences  were  not  unusual. 
Indeed,  of  all  the  people  about  him  the  major 
understood  Sam  the  best  and  enjoyed  him  the 
most,  —  an  understanding,  by  the  way,  which 
was  mutual.  There  never  was  any  strain 
upon  the  Pocomokian's  many  resources  of  high 
spirits,  willingness  to  please,  and  general  util- 
ity, when  he  was  alone  with  Sam.  He  never 
had  to  make  an  effort  to  keep  his  position  ; 
that  Sam  accorded  him.  But  then,  Sam  be- 
lieved in  the  major. 

As  the  yacht  rounded  the  east  end  of  Crotch 
[sland,  Sanford  made  out  quite  plainly  over 
the  port  bow  the  lighthouse  tender  steaming 
along  from  a  point  in  the  direction  of  Little 
Gull  Light. 

"  There  they  come,"  he  said  to  Mrs.  Leroy. 
"  Everything  is  in  our  favor  to-day,  Kate.  I 
was  afraid  they  might  be  detained.  We  '11 
steam  about  here  for  a  while  until  the  tender 
lands  at  the  new  wharf  which  we  have  just 
finished  at  the  Ledge.  The  yacht  draws  a 
little  too  much  water  to  risk  the  wharf,  and 


316        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

we  had  better  lie  outside  of  the  government 
boat.  It  *s  as  still  as  a  mill-pond  at  the  Ledge 
to-day,  and  we  can  all  go  ashore.  If  you  will 
permit  me,  Kate,  I  '11  call  to  your  sailing- 
master  to  slow  down  until  the  tender  reaches 
the  wharf." 

At  this  moment  the  major's  head  appeared 
around  the  edge  of  the  pilot-house  door.  He 
had  overheard  Sanford's  remark.  "  Allow  me, 
madam,"  he  said  in  a  voice  of  great  dignity, 
and  with  a  look  at  Sanford,  as  if  somehow  that 
gentleman  had  infringed  upon  his  own  espe- 
cial privileges.  The  next  instant  the  young 
engineer's  suggestion  to  "  slow  down "  was 
sent  bounding  up  to  the  sailing-master,  who 
answered  it  with  a  touch  of  two  fingers  to  his 
cap,  an  "  Ay,  ay,  sir,"  and  some  sharp,  quick 
pulls  on  the  engine-room  gong. 

Mrs.  Leroy  smiled  at  the  major's  nautical 
knowledge  and  quarter-deck  air,  and  rose  to 
her  feet  to  see  the  approaching  tender.  Under 
Sanford's  guiding  finger,  she  followed  the 
course  of  the  long  thread  of  black  smoke  lying 
on  the  still  horizon,  unwinding  slowly  from  the 
spool  of  the  tender's  funnel. 

Everybody  was  now  on  deck.  Helen  and 
the  other  younger  ladies  of  the  party  leaned 
over  the  yacht's  rail  watching  the  rapidly  near- 
ing  steamer ;  the  older  ladies  mounted  the  deck 
from  the  cabin,  some  of  them  becoming  fully 
persuaded  that  the  Ledge  with  its  derricks  and 


"  Victory  is  ours  /  " 


AT   THE   PINES  3*7 

shanty  —  a  purple-gray  mass  under  the  morn- 
ing glare  —  was  unquestionably  the  expected 
boat. 

Soon  the  Ledge  loomed  up  in  all  its  propor- 
tions, with  its  huge  rim  of  circular  masonry 
lying  on  the  water  line  like  a  low  monitor 
rigged  with  derricks  for  masts.  When  the 
rough  shanty  for  the  men,  and  the  platforms 
rilled  with  piles  of  cement  barrels,  and  the 
hoisting-engine  were  distinctly  outlined  against 
the  sky,  everybody  crowded  forward  to  see  the 
place  of  which  they  had  heard  so  much. 

Mrs.  Leroy  stood  one  side,  that  Sanford 
might  explain  without  interruption  the  several 
objects  as  they  came  into  view. 

"  Why,  Henry,"  she  exclaimed,  after  every- 
body had  said  how  wonderful  it  all  was,  "  how 
much  work  you  have  really  done  since  I  saw 
it  in  the  spring !  And  there  is  the  engine,  is 
it,  to  which  the  pump  belonged  that  nearly 
drowned  Captain  Joe  and  Caleb  ?  And  are 
those  the  big  derricks  you  had  so  much  trouble 
over?     They  don't  look  very  big." 

"  They  are  twice  the  size  of  your  body,  Kate," 
said  Sanford,  laughing.  "They  may  look  to 
you  like  knitting-needles  from  this  distance, 
but  that  is  because  everything  around  them  is 
on  so  large  a  scale.  You  would  n't  think  that 
shanty  which  looks  like  a  coal-bin  could  accom- 
modate twenty  men  and  their  stores." 

As   Sanford    ceased    speaking,   the    major 


318        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

turned  quickly,  entered  the  pilot-house,  and 
almost  instantly  reappeared  with  the  yacht's 
spyglass.  This  he  carefully  adjusted,  resting 
the  end  on  the  ratlines.  "  Victory  is  ours," 
he  said  slowly,  closing  the  glass.  "  I  have  n't 
a  doubt  about  the  result." 


CHAPTER  XXI 

THE    RECORD    OF    NICKLES,    THE    COOK 

The  yacht  and  the  lighthouse  tender  were 
not  the  only  boats  bound  for  the  Ledge.  The 
Screamer,  under  charge  of  a  tug,  —  her  sails 
would  have  been  useless  in  the  still  air,  —  was 
already  clear  of  Keyport  Light,  and  heading 
for  the  landing-wharf  a  mile  away.  Captain 
Bob  Brandt  held  the  tiller,  and  Captain  Joe 
and  Caleb  leaned  out  of  the  windows  of  the 
pilot-house  of  the  towing  tug.  They  wanted 
to  be  there  to  see  if  Carleton  "played  any 
monkey  tricks,"  to  quote  Captain  Brandt. 

None  of  them  had  had  cause  to  entertain  a 
friendly  spirit  toward  the  superintendent.  It 
had  often  been  difficult  for  Caleb  to  keep  his 
hands  from  Carleton's  throat  since  his  expe- 
rience with  him  under  the  willows.  As  for 
Captain  Brandt,  he  still  remembered  the  day 
the  level  was  set,  when  Carleton  had  virtually 
given  him  the  lie. 

The  Screamer  arrived  first ;  she  made  fast 
to  the  now  completed  dock,  and  the  tug 
dropped  back  in  the  eddy.  Then  the  light- 
house tender  came  alongside  and  hooked  a  line 


32o        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

around  the  Screamer's  deck-cleats.  The  yacht 
came  last,  lying  outside  the  others.  This 
made  it  necessary  for  the  passengers  aboard 
the  yacht  to  cross  the  deck  of  the  tender,  and 
for  those  of  both  the  yacht  and  the  tender  to 
cross  the  deck  of  the  Screamer,  before  step- 
ping upon  the  completed  masonry  of  the  light- 
house itself. 

Nothing  could  have  suited  Mrs.  Leroy  better 
than  this  enforced  intermingling  of  guests  and 
visitors.  The  interchanges  of  courtesy  estab- 
lished at  once  a  cordiality  which  augured  well 
for  the  day's  outcome  and  added  another  touch 
of  sunshine  to  its  happiness,  and  so  she  re- 
laxed none  of  her  efforts  to  propitiate  the  gods. 

It  is  worthy  of  note  that  Carleton  played  no 
part  in  the  joyous  programme  of  the  day.  He 
sprang  ashore  as  soon  as  the  tender  made  fast 
to  the  Screamer's  side  (he  had  met  the  party 
of  engineers  at  the  railroad  depot,  and  had 
gone  with  them  to  Little  Gull  Light,  —  their 
first  stopping-place),  and  began  at  once  his 
work  of  "  superintending "  with  a  vigor  and 
alertness  never  seen  in  him  before,  and,  to 
quote  Nickles,  the  cook,  who  was  watching  the 
whole  performance  from  the  shanty  window, 
"with  more  airs  than  a  Noank  goat  with  a 
hoop-skirt." 

The  moment  the  major's  foot  was  firmly 
planted  upon  the  Ledge  a  marked  change  was 
visible  in  him.     The  straight  back,  head  up, 


THE  RECORD  OF  NICKLES,  THE  COOK     321 

rear-admiral  manner,  which  had  distinguished 
him,  gave  way  to  one  of  a  thoughtful  repose. 
Engineering  problems  began  to  absorb  him. 
Leaving  Hardy  and  Smearly  to  help  the  older 
ladies  pick  their  way  over  the  mortar-incrusted 
platforms  and  up  and  down  the  rude  ladders 
to  the  top  rim  of  masonry,  he  commenced  in- 
specting the  work  with  the  eye  of  a  skilled 
mechanic.  He  examined  carefully  the  mortar 
joints  of  the  masonry  ;  squinted  his  eye  along 
the  edges  of  the  cut  stones  to  see  if  they  were 
true ;  turned  it  aloft,  taking  in  the  system  of 
derricks,  striking  one  with  the  palm  of  his 
hand  and  listening  for  the  vibration,  to  assure 
himself  of  its  stability.  And  he  asked  ques- 
tions in  a  way  that  left  no  doubt  in  the  minds 
of  the  men  that  he  was  past  grand  master  in 
the  art  of  building  lighthouses. 

All  but  one  man. 

This  doubter  was  Lonny  Bowles,  whom  the 
Pocomokian  had  cared  for  in  the  old  warehouse 
hospital  the  night  of  the  explosion.  Bowles 
had  quietly  dogged  the  major's  steps  over  the 
work,  in  the  hope  of  being  recognized.  At 
last  the  good-natured  lineaments  of  the  red- 
shirted  quarryman  fastened  themselves  upon 
the  major's  remembrance. 

"  My  dear  suh  ! "  he  broke  out,  as  he  jumped 
down  from  a  huge  coping-stone  and  grasped 
Lonny's  hand.  "  Of  co'se  I  remember  you. 
I  sincerely  hope  you  're  all  right  again,"  step- 


322        CALEB   WEST,    MASTER   DIVER 

ping  back  and  looking  him  over  with  an  expres- 
sion of  real  pride  and  admiration. 

"  Oh  yes,  I  'm  purty  hearty,  thank  ye,"  said 
Bowles,  laughing  as  he  hitched  his  sleeves  up 
his  arms,  bared  to  the  elbow.  "  How  's  things 
gone  'long  o'  yerself  ?  " 

The  major  expressed  his  perfect  satisfaction 
with  life  in  its  every  detail,  and  was  about  to 
compliment  Bowles  on  the  wonderful  progress 
of  the  work  so  largely  due  to  his  efforts,  when 
the  man  at  the  hoisting-engine  interrupted  with, 
"Don't  stand  there  now  lalligaggin',  Lonny. 
Where  ye  been  this  half  hour  ?  Hurry  up  with 
that  monkey-wrench.  Do  you  want  this  drum 
to  come  off  ? "  Lonny  instantly  turned  his 
attention  to  the  work.  When  he  had  given 
the  last  turn  to  the  endangered  nut,  the  man 
said,  "  Who 's  the  duck  with  the  bobtail  coat, 
Lonny  ? " 

"  Oh,  he 's  one  o'  the  boss's  city  gang. 
Fust  time  I  see  him  he  come  inter  th'  ware- 
house when  we  was  stove  up.  I  thought  he 
was  a  sawbones  till  I  see  him  a-fetchin'  water 
fur  th'  boys.  Then  I  thought  he  was  a  preach 
till  he  began  to  swear.  But  he  ain't  neither 
one  ;  he  's  an  out-an'-out  ol'  sport,  he  is,  every 
time,  an'  a  good  un.  He  's  struck  it  rich  up 
here,  I  guess,  from  th'  way  he  's  boomin'  things 
with  them  Leroy  folks," —  which  conviction 
seemed  to  be  shared  by  the  men  around  him, 
now  that   they  were   assured  of   the   major's 


THE  RECORD  OF  NICKLES,  THE  COOK     323 

identity.  Many  of  them  remembered  the 
nankeen  and  bombazine  suit  which  the  Poco- 
mokian  wore  on  that  fatal  day,  and  the  gener- 
ally disheveled  appearance  that  he  presented 
the  following  morning.  The  present  change 
in  his  attire  was  therefore  the  more  incompre- 
hensible. 

During  all  this  time,  Sanford,  with  the  assist- 
ance of  Captain  Joe  and  Caleb,  was  adjusting 
his  transit,  in  order  that  he  might  measure  for 
the  committee  the  exact  difference  between 
the  level  shown  on  the  plans  and  the  level 
found  in  the  concrete  base.  In  this  adjust- 
ment, the  major,  who  had  now  joined  the  group, 
took  the  deepest  interest,  discoursing  most 
learnedly,  to  the  officers  about  him,  upon  the 
marvels  of  modern  science,  punctuating  his 
remarks  every  few  minutes  with  pointed  allu- 
sions to  his  dear  friend  Henry,  "that  Archi- 
medes of  the  New  World,"  who  in  this  the 
greatest  of  all  his  undertakings  had  eclipsed 
all  former  achievements.  The  general  listened 
with  an  amused  smile,  in  which  the  whole 
committee  joined  before  long. 

Either  General  Barton's  practiced  eye  fore- 
stalled any  need  of  the  instrument,  or  Carle- 
ton  had  already  fully  posted  him  as  to  which 
side  of  the  circle  was  some  inches  too  high,  for 
he  asked,  with  some  severity  :  — 

"  Is  n't  the  top  of  that  concrete  base  out  of 
level,  Mr.  Sanford?" 


324        CALEB   WEST,    MASTER    DIVER 

"  Yes,  sir ;  some  inches  too  high  near  the 
southeast  derrick,"  replied  Sanford  promptly. 

"  How  did  that  occur  ? " 

"  I  should  prefer  you  to  ask  the  superintend- 
ent," said  Sanford  quietly. 

Mrs.  Leroy,  who  was  standing  a  short  dis- 
tance away  on  a  dry  plank  that  Sanford  had 
put  under  her  feet,  her  ears  alert,  stopped 
talking  to  Smearly  and  turned  her  head.  She 
did  not  want  to  miss  a  word. 

"  What  have  you  to  say,  Mr.  Carleton  ? 
Did  you  give  any  orders  to  raise  that  level  ? " 
The  general  looked  over  his  glasses  at  the  su- 
perintendent. 

Carleton  had  evidently  prepared  himself  for 
this  ordeal,  and  had  carefully  studied  his  line 
of  answers.  As  long  as  he  kept  the  written 
requirements  under  the  contract  he  was  safe. 

"  If  I  understand  my  instructions,  sir,  I  am 
not  here  to  give  orders.  The  plans  show  what 
is  to  be  done."  He  spoke  in  a  low,  almost 
gentle  voice,  and  with  a  certain  deference  of 
manner  which  no  one  had  ever  seen  in  him 
before,  and  which  Sanford  felt  was  even  more 
to  be  dreaded  than  his  customary  bluster. 

Captain  Joe  stepped  closer  to  Sanford's  side, 
and  Caleb  and  Captain  Bob  Brandt,  who  stood 
on  the  outside  of  the  circle  of  officers  grouped 
around  the  tripod,  leaned  forward,  listening  in- 
tently. They,  too,  had  noticed  the  change  in 
Carleton's  manner.      The  other  men  dropped 


THE  RECORD  OF  NICKLES,  THE  COOK     325 

their  shovels  and  tools,  and  edged  up,  not  ob- 
trusively, but  so  as  to  overhear  everything. 

"  Is  this  the  reason  you  have  withheld  the 
certificate,  of  which  the  contractor  complains  ? " 
asked  the  general,  with  a  tone  in  his  voice  as 
of  a  judge  interrogating  a  witness. 

Carleton  bowed  his  head  meekly  in  assent. 
"  I  can't  sign  for  work  that 's  done  wrong,  sir." 

Captain  Joe  made  a  movement  as  if  to  speak, 
when  Sanford,  checking  him  with  a  look, 
began,  "The  superintendent  is  right  so  far  as 
he  goes,  general,  but  there  is  another  clause 
in  the  contract  which  he  seems  to  forget.  I  '11 
quote  it,"  drawing  an  important-looking  docu- 
ment from  his  pocket  and  spreading  it  out  on 
the  top  of  a  cement  barrel :  "  '  Any  dispute 
arising  between  the  United  States  engineer, 
or  his  superintendent,  and  the  contractor,  shall 
be  decided  by  the  former,  and  his  decision 
shall  be  final.'  If  the  level  of  this  concrete 
base  does  not  conform  to  the  plans,  there  is  no 
one  to  blame  but  the  superintendent  himself." 

Sanford's  flashing  eye  and  rising  voice  had 
attracted  the  attention  of  the  ladies  as  well  as 
that  of  their  escorts.  They  ceased  talking  and 
played  with  the  points  of  their  parasols,  tracing 
little  diagrams  in  the  cement  dust,  preserving 
a  strict  neutrality,  like  most  people  overhear- 
ing a  quarrel  in  which  they  have  no  interest, 
but  who  are  alert  to  lose  no  move  in  the  con- 
test.    Sanford  would  have  liked  less  publicity 


326        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

in  the  settlement  of  the  matter,  and  so  ex- 
pressed himself  in  a  quick  glance  toward  the 
guests.  This  anxiety  was  instantly  seen  by 
the  major,  who,  with  a  tact  that  Sanford  had 
not  given  him  credit  for,  led  the  ladies  away 
out  of  hearing  on  pretense  of  showing  them 
some  of  the  heavy  masonry. 

The  engineer-in-chief  looked  curiously  at 
Carleton,  and  the  awakened  light  of  a  new  im- 
pression gleamed  in  his  eye.  Sanford's  con- 
fident manner  and  Carleton's  momentary  agi- 
tation over  Sanford's  statement,  upsetting  for 
an  instant  his. lamblike  reserve,  evidently  indi- 
cated something  hidden  behind  this  dispute 
which  until  then  had  not  come  to  the  front. 

"  I  '11  take  any  blame  that  's  coming  to  me," 
said  Carleton,  his  meekness  merging  into  a 
dogged,  half-imposed-on  tone,  "but  I  can't  be 
responsible  for  other  folks'  mistakes.  I  set 
that  level  myself  two  months  ago,  and  left  the 
bench-marks  for  'em  to  work  up  to.  When 
I  come  out  next  time  they  'd  altered  them.  I 
told  'em  it  would  n't  do,  and  they  'd  have  to 
take  up  what  concrete  they  'd  set  and  lower 
the  level  again.  They  said  they  was  behind 
and  wanted  to  catch  up,  that  it  made  no  differ- 
ence anyhow,  and  they  would  n't  do  it." 

General  Barton  turned  to  Sanford  and  was 
about  to  speak,  when  a  voice  rang  out  clear 
and  sharp,  "  That 's  a  lie  !  " 

Everybody  looked  about  for  the  speaker.     If 


THE  RECORD  OF  NICKLES,  THE  COOK     327 

a  bomb  had  exploded  above  their  heads,  the 
astonishment  could  not  have  been  greater. 

Before  any  one  could  speak  Captain  Bob 
Brandt  forced  his  way  into  the  middle  of  the 
group.  His  face  was  flushed  with  anger,  his 
lower  lip  was  quivering.  "  I  say  it  again. 
That 's  a  lie,  and  you  know  it,"  he  said  calmly, 
pointing  his  finger  at  Carleton,  whose  cheek 
paled  at  this  sudden  onslaught.  "  This  ain't 
my  job,  gentlemen,"  and  he  faced  General 
Barton  and  the  committee,  "  an'  it  don't  make 
no  difference  to  me  whether  it  gits  done  'r  not. 
I  'm  hired  here  'long  with  my  sloop  a-layin' 
there  at  the  wharf,  an'  I  git  my  pay.  But 
I  've  been  here  all  summer,  an'  I  stood  by  when 
this  'ere  galoot  you  call  a  superintendent  sot 
this  level  ;  and  when  he  says  Cap'n  Joe  did  n't 
do  the  work  as  he  ordered  it  he  lies  like  a 
thief,  an'  I  don't  care  who  hears  it.  Ask  Cap'n 
Joe  Bell  and  Caleb  West,  a-standin'  right  there 
'longside  o'  ye  :  they  '11  gin  it  to  ye  straight ; 
they  're  that  kind." 

Barton  was  an  old  man  and  accustomed  to 
the  respectful  deference  of  a  government  office, 
but  he  was  also  a  keen  observer  of  human  na- 
ture. The  expression  on  the  skipper's  face 
and  on  the  faces  of  the  others  about  him  was 
too  fearless  to  admit  of  a  moment's  doubt  of 
their  sincerity. 

Carleton  shrugged  his  shoulders  as  if  it 
were  to  be  expected  that  Sanford's  men  would 


328        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

stand  by  him.  Then  he  said,  with  a  half  sneer 
at  Captain  Brandt,  "  Five  dollars  goes  a  long 
ways  with  you  fellers."  The  cat  had  uncon- 
sciously uncovered  its  claws. 

Brandt  sprang  forward  with  a  wicked  look  in 
his  eye,  when  the  general  raised  his  hand. 

"  Come,  men,  stop  this  right  away."  There 
was  a  tone  in  the  chief  engineer's  voice  which 
impelled  obedience.  "We  are  here  to  find 
out  who  is  responsible  for  this  error.  I  am 
surprised,  Mr.  Sanford,"  turning  almost  fiercely 
upon  him,  "  that  a  man  of  your  experience  did 
not  insist  on  a  written  order  for  this  change 
of  plan.  While  six  inches  over  an  area  of  this 
size  does  not  materially  injure  the  work,  you 
are  too  old  a  contractor  to  alter  a  level  to  one 
which  you  admit  now  was  wrong,  and  which 
at  the  time  you  knew  was  wrong,  without  some 
written  order.     It  violates  the  contract." 

Here  Nickles,  the  cook,  who  had  been  cran- 
ing his  neck  out  of  the  shanty  window  so  as 
not  to  lose  a  word  of  the  talk,  withdrew  it  so 
suddenly  that  one  of  the  men  standing  by  the 
door  hurried  into  the  shanty,  thinking  some- 
thing unusual  was  the  matter. 

"  I  have  never  been  able  to  get  a  written 
order  from  this  superintendent  for  any  detail 
of  the  work  since  he  has  been  here,"  said  San- 
ford in  a  positive  tone,  "  and  he  has  never 
raised  his  hand  to  help  us.  What  the  cause  of 
his  enmity  is  I  do  not  know.     We  have  all  of 


THE  RECORD  OF  NICKLES,  THE  COOK    329 

us  tried  to  treat  him  courteously  and  follow 
his  orders  whenever  it  was  possible  to  do  so. 
He  insisted  on  this  change  after  both  my  mas- 
ter diver,  Caleb  West  here,  Captain  Joe  Bell, 
and  others  of  my  best  men  had  protested  against 
it,  and  we  had  either  to  stop  work  and  appeal 
to  the  Board,  and  so  lose  the  summer's  work 
and  be  liable  to  the  government  for  non-com- 
pletion on  time,  or  obey  him.  I  took  the  lat- 
ter course,  and  you  can  see  the  result.  It  was 
my  only  way  out  of  the  difficulty." 

At  this  instant  there  came  a  crash  which 
sounded  like  breaking  china,  evidently  in  the 
shanty,  and  a  cloud  of  white  dust,  the  contents 
of  a  partly  empty  flour-barrel,  sifted  out  through 
the  open  window.  The  general  turned  his 
head  in  inquiry,  and,  seeing  nothing  unusual, 
continued  :  — 

"  You  should  have  stopped  work,  sir,  and 
appealed.  The  government  does  not  want  its 
work  done  in  a  careless,  unworkmanlike  way, 
and  will  not  pay  for  it."  His  voice  had  a  tpne 
in  it  that  sent  a  pang  of  anxiety  to  Mrs.  Leroy's 
heart. 

Carleton  smiled  grimly.  He  was  all  right, 
he  said  to  himself.  Nobody  believed  the 
Yankee  skipper. 

Before  Sanford  could  gather  his  wits  in  reply 
the  shanty  door  was  flung  wide  open,  and 
Nickles  backed  out,  carrying  in  his  arms  a  pine 
door,  higher  and  wider  than  himself.     He  had 


330        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

lifted  it  from  its  hinges  in  the  pantry,  upsetting 
everything  about  it. 

"  I  guess  mebbe  I  ain't  been  a-watchin'  this 
all  summer  fur  nothin',  gents,"  he  said,  planting 
the  door  squarely  before  the  general.  "  You 
kin  read  it  fur  yerself,  —  it 's  's  plain  's  print. 
If  ye  want  what  ye  call  an  'order,'  here  it  is 
large  as  life." 

It  was  the  once  clean  pine  door  of  the 
shanty,  on  which  Sanford  and  the  men  had 
placed  their  signatures  in  blue  pencil  the  day 
the  level  was  fixed,  and  Carleton,  defying  San- 
ford, had  said  it  should  "  go  that  way "  or  he 
would  stop  the  work  ! 

General  Barton  adjusted  his  eyeglasses  and 
began  reading  the  inscription.  A  verbatim 
record  of  Carleton's  instructions  was  before 
him.  The  other  members  of  the  Board  crowded 
around,  reading  it  in  silence. 

General  Barton  replaced  his  gold-rimmed 
eyeglasses  carefully  in  their  case,  and  for  a 
moment  looked  seaward  in  an  abstracted  sort 
of  way.  The  curiously  inscribed  door  had  evi- 
dently made  a  deep  impression  upon  him. 

"I  had  forgotten  about  that  record,  general," 
said  Sanford,  "  but  I  am  very  glad  it  has  been 
preserved.  It  was  made  at  the  time,  so  we 
could  exactly  carry  out  the  superintendent's 
instructions.  As  to  its  truth,  I  should  prefer 
you  to  ask  the  men  who  signed  it.  They  are 
all  here  around  you." 


THE  RECORD  OF  NICKLES,  THE  COOK    331 

The  general  looked  again  at  Captain  Joe  and 
Caleb.  There  was  no  questioning  their  integ- 
rity. Theirs  were  faces  that  disarmed  suspi- 
cion at  once. 

"  Are  these  your  signatures  ?  "  he  asked, 
pointing  to  the  scrawls  in  blue  lead  pencil  sub- 
scribed under  Sanford's. 

"  They  are,  sir,"  said  Captain  Joe  and  Caleb 
almost  simultaneously  ;  Caleb  answering  with 
a  certain  tone  of  solemnity,  as  if  he  were  still 
in  government  service  and  under  oath,  lifting 
his  hat  as  he  spoke.  Men  long  in  government 
employ  have  this  sort  of  unconscious  awe  in 
the  presence  of  their  superiors. 

"  Make  a  copy  of  it,"  said  the  general  curtly 
to  the  secretary  of  the  Board.  Then  he  turned 
on  his  heel,  crossed  the  Screamer's  deck,  and 
entered  the  cabin  of  the  tender,  where  he  was 
followed  by  the  other  members  of  the  com- 
mittee. 

Ten  minutes  later  the  steward  of  the  tender 
called  Carleton.  The  men  looked  after  him  as 
he  picked  his  way  over  the  platforms  and  across 
the  deck  of  the  sloop.  His  face  was  flushed, 
and  a  nervous  twitching  of  the  muscles  of  his 
mouth  showed  his  agitation  over  the  summons. 
The  apparition  of  the  pantry  door,  they  thought, 
had  taken  the  starch  out  of  him. 

Mrs.  Leroy  crossed  to  Sanford's  side  and 
whispered  anxiously,  "What  do  you  think, 
Henry?" 


332        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

"  I  don't  know  yet,  Kate.  Barton  is  a  gruff, 
exact  man,  and  a  martinet,  but  he  has  n't  a  dis- 
honest hair  on  his  head.     Wait." 

The  departure  of  the  engineers  aboard  the 
tender,  followed  almost  immediately  by  that  of 
the  superintendent,  left  the  opposition,  so  to 
speak,  unrepresented.  Those  of  the  ladies 
who  were  on  sufficiently  intimate  terms  with 
Sanford  to  mention  the  fact  at  all,  and  who, 
despite  the  major's  efforts  to  lead  them  out  of 
range,  had  heard  every  word  of  the  discussion, 
expressed  the  hope  that  the  affair  would  come 
out  all  right.  One,  a  Mrs.  Corson,  said  in  a 
half  -  querulous  tone  that  she  thought  they 
ought  to  be  ashamed  of  themselves  to  find  any 
fault,  after  all  the  hard  work  he  had  done. 
Jack  and  Smearly  consulted  apart.  They  were 
somewhat  disturbed,  but  still  believed  that 
Sanford  would  win  his  case. 

To  the  major,  however,  the  incident  had  a 
far  deeper  and  much  more  significant  meaning. 

"  It 's  a  part  of  their  infernal  system,  Henry," 
he  said  in  a  sympathetic  voice,  now  really  con- 
cerned for  his  friend's  welfare,  —  "a  trick  of 
the  damnable  oligarchy,  suh,  that  is  crushing 
out  the  life  of  the  people.  It  is  the  first  time 
since  the  wah  that  I  have  come  as  close  as 
this  to  any  of  the  representatives  of  this  gov- 
ernment, and  it  will  be  the  last,  suh." 

Before  Sanford  could  soothe  the  warlike 
spirit  of  his  champion,  the  steward  of  the  ten- 


THE  RECORD  OF  NICKLES,  THE  COOK    333 

der  again  appeared,  and,  touching  his  cap,  said 
the  committee  wished  to  see  Mr.  Sanford. 

The  young  engineer  excused  himself  to 
those  about  him  and  followed  the  steward, 
Mrs.  Leroy  looking  after  him  with  a  glance  of 
anxiety  as  he  crossed  the  deck  of  the  Screamer, 
—  an  anxiety  which  Sanford  tried  to  relieve 
by  an  encouraging  wave  of  his  hand. 

As  Sanford  entered  the  saloon  Carleton  was 
just  leaving  it,  hat  in  hand.  He  did  not  raise 
his  eyes.  His  face  was  blue-white.  Little 
flecks  of  saliva  were  sticking  in  the  corners  of 
his  mouth,  as  if  his  breath  were  dry. 

General  Barton  sat  at  the  head  of  the  saloon 
table.  The  other  members  of  the  Board  were 
seated  below  him. 

"Mr.  Sanford,"  said  the  general,  "we  have 
investigated  the  differences  between  yourself 
and  the  superintendent  with  the  following  re- 
sult :  First,  the  committee  has  accepted  the 
work  as  it  stands,  believing  in  the  truthfulness 
of  yourself  and  your  men,  confirmed  by  a  re- 
cord which  it  could  not  doubt.  Second,  the 
withheld  certificate  will  be  signed  and  checks 
forwarded  to  you  as  soon  as  the  necessary  pa- 
pers can  be  prepared.  Third,  Superintendent 
Carleton  has  been  relieved  from  duty  at  Shark 
Ledge  Light." 


CHAPTER  XXII 

AFTER   THE    BATTLE 

Carleton's  downfall  was  known  all  over 
the  Ledge  and  on  board  every  boat  that  lay  at 
its  wharf  long  before  either  he  or  Sanford  re- 
gained the  open  air.  The  means  of  communi- 
cation was  that  same  old  silent  current  that 
requires  neither  pole  nor  battery  to  put  it  into 
working  order.  Within  thirty  seconds  of  the 
time  the  ominous  words  fell  from  the  general's 
lips,  the  single  word  "  Dennis,"  the  universal 
sobriquet  for  a  discharged  man  our  working 
world  over,  was  in  every  man's  mouth.  What- 
ever medium  was  used,  the  meaning  was  none 
the  less  clear  and  unmistakable.  The  steward 
may  have  winked  to  the  captain  in  the  pilot- 
house, or  the  cook  shrugged  his  shoulders,  open- 
ing his  mouth  with  the  gasping  motion  of  a 
strangling  chicken,  and  so  conveyed  the  news 
to  the  forecastle ;  or  one  of  the  crew,  with  ears 
wide  open,  might  have  found  it  necessary  to 
uncoil  a  rope  outside  the  cabin  window  at  the 
precise  moment  the  general  gave  his  decision, 
and  have  instantly  passed  the  news  along  to  his 
nearest   mate.      Of   one   thing  there   was  no 


AFTER  THE   BATTLE  335 

doubt :  Carleton  had  given  his  last  order  on 
Shark  Ledge. 

An  animated  discussion  followed  among  the 
men. 

"Ought  to  give  him  six  months,"  blurted 
out  Captain  Bob  Brandt,  whose  limited  expe- 
rience of  government  inspecting  boards  led  him 
to  believe  that  its  officers  were  clothed  with 
certain  judicial  powers.  "Hadn't  'a'  been  for 
old  Hamfats"  (Nickles's  nickname)  "an'  his 
pantry  door,  he'd  'a'  swore  Cap'n  Joe's  char- 
acter away." 

"  Well,  I  'm  kind'er  sorry  for  him,  anyway," 
said  Captain  Joe,  not  noticing  the  skipper's 
humorous  allusion.  "  Poor  critter,  he  ain't  real 
responsible.  What 's  he  goin'  to  do  fur  a  livin', 
now  that  the  gov'ment  ain't  a-goin'  to  support 
him  no  more  ?  " 

"  Ain't  nobody  cares  ;  he  '11  know  better  'n 
to  lie  nex'  time,"  grunted  Lonny  Bowles.  "Is 
he  comin'  ashore  here  agin,  Caleb,  er  has  he 
dug  a  hole  fur  himself  'board  the  tender  in  the 
coal  bunkers  ? " 

Caleb  smiled  grimly,  but  made  no  reply.  He 
never  liked  to  think  of  Carleton,  much  less  to 
talk  of  him.  Since  the  night  when  he  had  way- 
laid Betty  coming  home  from  Keyport,  his  name 
had  not  passed  the  diver's  lips.  He  had  always 
avoided  him  on  the  work,  keeping  out  of  his 
way,  not  so  much  from  fear  of  Carleton  as  from 
fear  of  himself,  —  fear  that  in  some  uncontrol- 


336        CALEB  WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

lable  moment  he  might  fall  upon  him  and 
throttle  him. 

If  a  certain  sigh  of  relief  went  up  from  the 
working  force  on  the  Ledge  over  Carleton's 
downfall  and  Sanford's  triumph,  a  much  more 
joyous  feeling  permeated  the  yacht.  Not  only 
were  Jack  and  Smearly  jubilant,  but  even  Sam, 
with  a  grin  the  width  of  his  face,  had  a  little 
double  shuffle  of  his  own  in  the  close  quarters 
of  the  galley,  while  the  major  began  forthwith 
to  concoct  a  brew  in  which  to  drink  Sanford's 
health,  and  of  such  mighty  power  that  for  once 
Sam  disobeyed  his  instructions,  and  emptied 
a  pint  of  Medford  spring  water  instead  of  an 
equal  amount  of  old  Holland  gin  into  the  se- 
ductive mixture.  "  'Fo'  God,  Mr.  Sanford,  dey 
would  n't  one  o'  dem  ladies  knowed  deir  head 
from  a  whirlum-gig  if  dey  'd  drank  dat  punch," 
he  said  afterwards  to  his  master,  in  palliation 
of  his  sin. 

Sanford  took  the  situation  with  a  calmness 
customary  to  him  when  things  were  going  well. 
His  principle  in  life  was  to  do  his  best  every 
time,  and  leave  the  rest  to  fate.  When  he 
worried  it  was  before  a  crisis.  He  had  not 
belittled  the  consequences  of  a  rejection  of  the 
work.  He  knew  how  serious  it  might  have 
been.  Had  the  Board  become  thoroughly  con- 
vinced that  he  had  openly  and  without  just 
cause  violated  both  the  written  contract  and 
the   instructions   of   the   superintendent,   they 


AFTER   THE    BATTLE  337 

might  have  been  forced  to  make  an  example  of 
him,  and  to  require  all  the  upper  masonry  to  be 
torn  down  and  rebuilt  on  a  true  level,  a  result 
which  would  have  entailed  the  loss  of  thousands 
of  dollars. 

His  own  reply  to  General  Barton  and  the 
Board  was  a  grim,  reserved,  "  I  thank  you,  gen- 
tlemen," with  an  added  hope  that  the  new  su- 
perintendent might  be  instructed  to  give  written 
orders  when  any  departure  from  the  contract 
was  insisted  upon,  to  which  the  chief  engineer 
agreed. 

His  greatest  satisfaction,  though,  was  really 
over  his  men.  The  vindication  of  his  course 
was  as  much  their  triumph  as  his.  He  knew 
who  had  been  its  master  spirits ;  the  credit  was 
not  due  to  him,  but  to  Captain  Joe,  Caleb, 
and  Captain  Brandt,  whose  pluck,  skill,  and  de- 
votion both  to  himself  and  the  work  had  made 
its  success  possible.  He  had  only  inspired 
them  to  do  their  best. 

Later,  when  he  called  them  together  on  the 
Ledge  and  gave  them  the  details  of  the  inter- 
view, —  he  never  kept  anything  of  this  kind  from 
his  working  force,  —  he  cautioned  one  and  all 
of  them  to  exercise  the  greatest  patience  and 
good  temper  toward  the  new  superintendent, 
whoever  he  might  be,  who  was  promised  in  a 
few  days,  so  that  nothing  might  happen  which 
would  incur  his  ill  will ;  reminding  them  that 
it  would  not  do  for  a  second  superintendent  to 


338        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

be  disgruntled,  no  matter  whose  fault  it  was,  to 
which  Captain  Joe  sententiously  replied  :  — 

"  All  right ;  let  'em  send  who  they  like  ; 
sooner  the  better.  But  one  thing  I  kin  tell 
'em,  an'  that  is  that  none  on  'em  can't  stop  us 
now  from  gittin'  through,  no  matter  how  ornery 
they  be." 

But  of  all  the  happy  souls  that  breathed  the 
air  of  this  lovely  autumn  day  Mrs.  Leroy  was 
the  happiest.  She  felt,  somehow,  that  the  de- 
cision of  the  committee  was  a  triumph  for  both 
Sanford  and  herself :  for  Sanford  because  of 
his  constant  fight  against  the  elements,  for  her 
because  of  her  advice  and  encouragement.  As 
the  words  fell  from  Sanford's  lips,  telling  her 
of  the  joyful  news,  —  he  had  found  her  aboard 
the  yacht  and  had  told  her  first  of  all,  —  her 
face  flushed,  and  her  eyes  lighted  with  gen- 
uine pleasure. 

"  What  did  I  tell  you !  "  she  said,  holding 
out  her  hand  in  a  hearty,  generous  way,  as  a 
man  would  have  done.  "  I  knew  you  would  do 
it.  Oh,  I  am  so  proud  of  you,  you  great  splen- 
did fellow !  " 

Then  a  sudden  inspiration  seized  her.  She 
darted  back  again  to  the  Ledge  in  search  of  Cap- 
tain Joe,  her  dainty  skirts  raised  about  her  tiny 
boots  to  keep  them  from  the  rough  platforms. 

"  Do  come  and  lunch  with  us,  Captain  Bell !  " 
she  exclaimed  in  her  joyous  way.  "  I  really  want 
you,  and  the  ladies  would  so  love  to  talk  to 


AFTER   THE   BATTLE  339 

you.'*  She  had  not  forgotten  his  tenderness 
over  Betty  the  morning  he  came  for  her  ;  more 
than  that,  he  had  stood  by  Sanford. 

The  captain  stopped,  somewhat  surprised, 
and  looked  down  into  her  eyes  with  the  kindly 
expression  of  a  big  mastiff  diagnosing  a  kitten. 

"  Well,  that 's  real  nice  o'  ye,  an'  I  thank  ye 
kindly,"  he  answered,  his  eyes  lighting  up  at 
her  evident  sincerity.  "  But  ye  see  yer  vittles 
would  do  me  no  good.  So  if  ye  won't  take  no 
offense  I  '11  kind'er  grub  in  with  the  other  men. 
Cook's  jes'  give  notice  to  all  hands." 

As  she  looked  into  his  eyes  her  thoughts  re- 
verted to  that  morning  in  the  hospital  when  the 
captain's  same  sense  of  the  fitness  of  things 
had  saved  her  from  being  established  as  nurse 
to  the  wounded  men.  She  was  about  to  press 
her  request  again  when  her  glance  fell  on  Caleb 
standing  by  himself  a  little  way  off.  She 
turned  and  walked  toward  him.  But  it  was  not 
to  ask  him  to  luncheon. 

"I  have  heard  Mr.  Sanford  speak  so  often 
of  you  that  I  wanted  to  know  you  before  I  left 
the  work,"  she  said,  holding  out  her  little  gloved 
hand.  Caleb  looked  into  her  face  and  touched 
the  dainty  glove  with  two  of  his  fingers,  — he  was 
afraid  to  do  more,  it  was  so  small,  —  and,  with 
his  eyes  on  hers,  listened  while  she  spoke  in  a 
tender,  sympathetic  tone,  lowering  her  voice  so 
that  no  one  could  hear  but  himself,  —  not  even 
Sanford  :  "  I  have  heard  all  about  your  troubles, 


340        CALEB    WEST,    MASTER   DIVER 

Mr.  West,  and  I  am  so  sorry  for  you  both ;  she 
stayed  with  me  one  night  last  summer.  She 
said,  poor  child,  she  was  very  miserable ;  it 's 
an  awful  thing  to  be  alone  in  the  world." 

Sanford  watched  her  as  she  flitted  over  the 
rough  platforms  like  a  bird  that  sings  as  it  flies. 
Unaccountable  as  it  was  to  him  even  in  the 
happiness  of  his  triumph,  a  strange  feeling  of 
disappointment  came  over  him.  He  began  in 
an  utterly  unreasonable  way  to  wonder  whether 
their  intimacy  would  now  be  as  close  as  be- 
fore, and  whether  the  daily  conferences  would 
end,  since  he  had  no  longer  any  anxieties  to  lay 
before  her. 

Something  in  her  delight,  and  especially  in 
the  frank  way  in  which  she  had  held  out  her 
hand  like  a  man  friend  in  congratulation,  had 
chilled  rather  than  cheered  him.  He  felt  hurt 
without  knowing  why.  A  sense  of  indefinable 
personal  loss  came  over  him.  In  the  rush  of 
contending  emotions  suddenly  assailing  him,  he 
began  to  doubt  whether  she  had  understood  his 
motives  that  night  on  the  veranda  when  he  had 
kissed  her  hand,  —  whether  in  fact  he  had  ever 
understood  her.  Had  she  really  conquered  her 
feelings  as  he  had  his  ?  Or  had  there  been 
nothing  to  conquer  ?  Then  another  feeling  rose 
in  his  heart,  —  a  vague  jealousy  of  the  very 
work  which  had  bound  them  so  closely  to- 
gether, and  which  now  seemed  to  claim  all  her 
interest. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

a  broken  draw- 
Throughout  the  luncheon  that  followed 
aboard  the  yacht  the  major  was  the  life  of  the 
party.  He  had  offered  no  apology  either  to 
Sanford  or  to  any  member  of  the  committee 
for  his  hasty  conclusions  regarding  the  "  damn- 
able oligarchy."  He  considered  that  he  had 
wiped  away  all  bitterness,  when,  rising  to  his 
feet  and  rapping  with  the  handle  of  his  knife 
for  order,  he  said  with  great  dignity  and  suavity 
of  manner :  — 

"On  behalf  of  this  queen  among  women," 
turning  to  Mrs.  Leroy,  "  our  lovely  hostess,  as 
well  as  these  fair  young  buds"  —  a  graceful 
wave  of  his  hand  —  (some  of  these  buds  had 
grandchildren)  "  who  adorn  her  table,  I  rise  to 
thank  you,  suh,"  —  semi-military  salute  to  Gen- 
eral Barton,  —  "  for  the  opportunity  you  have 
given  them  of  doing  honor  to  a  gentleman  and 
a  soldier,"  —  a  double-barreled  compliment  that 
brought  a  smile  to  that  gentleman's  face,  and 
a  suppressed  ripple  of  laughter  from  the  other 
members  of  the  committee. 

In  the  same  generous  way  he  filled  his  own 


342        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

and  everybody  else's  bumper  for  Sanford  out 
of  the  bowl  that  Sam  had  rendered  innocuous, 
addressing  his  friend  as  that  "  young  giant,  who 
has  lighted  up  the  pathway  of  the  vasty  deep." 
To  which  bit  of  grandiloquence  Sanford  replied 
that  the  major  was  premature,  but  that  he 
hoped  to  accomplish  it  the  following  year. 

In  addition  to  conducting  all  these  functions, 
the  Pocomokian  neglected  no  minor  detail  of 
the  feast.  He  insisted  upon  making  the  coffee 
after  an  especial  formula  of  his  own,  and  cooled 
in  a  new  way  and  with  his  own  hands  the  sev- 
eral cordials  banked  up  on  Sam's  silver  tray. 
He  opened  parasols  for  the  ladies  and  cham- 
pagne for  the  men  with  equal  grace  and  dex- 
terity ;  was  host,  waiter,  valet,  and  host  again ; 
and  throughout  the  livelong  day  one  unfailing 
source  of  enthusiasm,  courtesy,  and  helpful- 
ness. With  all  this  be  it  said  to  his  credit, 
he  had  never  overstepped  the  limits  of  his  posi- 
tion, as  High  Rubber-in-Chief,  —  his  main  pur- 
pose having  been  to  get  all  the  fun  possible 
out  of  the  situation,  both  for  himself  and  for 
those  about  him.  These  praiseworthy  efforts 
were  not  appreciated  by  all  of  the  guests.  The 
general  and  the  committee  had  several  times, 
in  their  own  minds,  put  him  down  for  a  char- 
latan and  a  mountebank,  especially  when  they 
deliberated  upon  the  fit  of  his  clothes,  and  his 
bombastic  and  sometimes  fulsome  speeches. 

All  these  several  vagaries,  however,  of  the 


A   BROKEN    DRAW  343 

distinguished  Pocomokian  only  endeared  him 
the  more  to  Sanford  and  his  many  friends. 
They  saw  a  little  deeper  under  the  veneer,  and 
knew  that  if  the  major  did  smoke  his  hostess's 
cigars  and  drink  her  cognac,  it  was  always  as  her 
guest  and  in  her  presence.  They  knew,  too, 
that,  poor  and  often  thirsty  as  he  was,  he  would 
as  soon  have  thought  of  stuffing  his  carpet-bag 
with  the  sheets  that  covered  his  temporary  bed 
as  of  filling  his  private  flask  with  the  contents 
of  the  decanter  that  Buckles  brought  nightly 
to  his  room.  It  was  just  this  delicate  sense  of 
honor  that  saved  him  from  pure  vagabondage. 

When  coffee  and  cigars  had  been  served,  the 
general  and  his  party  again  crossed  the  gang- 
plank to  the  tender,  the  mooring-lines  were 
thrown  off,  and  the  two  boats,  with  many  wav- 
ings  of  hands  from  yacht  and  Ledge,  kept  on 
their  respective  courses.  The  tender  was  to 
keep  on  to  Keyport,  where  the  committee  were 
to  board  the  train  for  New  York,  and  the  yacht 
was  to  idle  along  until  sundown,  and  so  on  into 
Medford  harbor.  Captain  Joe  and  Caleb  were 
to  follow  later  in  the  tug  that  had  towed  out 
the  Screamer,  they  being  needed  in  Keyport  to 
load  some  supplies. 

As  the  tender  steamed  away  the  men  on  the 
Ledge  looked  eagerly  for  Carleton,  that  they 
might  give  him  some  little  leave-taking  of  their 
own,  —  it  would  have  been  a  characteristic  one, 
—  but  he  was  nowhere  to  be  seen. 


344        CALEB   WEST,    MASTER   DIVER 

"  Buried  up  in  the  coal  bunkers,  jes'  's  I  said," 
laughed  Lonny  Bowles. 

With  the  final  wave  to  the  fast  disappearing 
tender  of  a  red  handkerchief,  the  property  of 
the  major,  returned  by  the  general  standing  in 
the  stern  of  his  own  boat,  Mrs.  Leroy's  party 
settled  themselves  on  the  forward  deck  of 
the  yacht  to  enjoy  the  afternoon  run  back  to 
Medford. 

The  ladies  sat  under  the  awnings,  where  they 
were  made  comfortable  with  cushions  from  the 
saloon  below,  while  some  of  the  men  threw 
themselves  flat  on  the  deck  cushions,  or  sat 
Turkish  fashion  in  those  several  sprawling  posi- 
tions only  possible  under  like  conditions,  and 
most  difficult  for  some  men  to  learn  to  assume 
properly.  Jack  Hardy  knew  to  a  nicety  how  to 
stow  his  legs  away,  and  so  did  Sanf ord.  Theirs 
were  always  invisible.  Smearly  never  tried  the 
difficult  art.  He  thought  it  beneath  his  dig- 
nity ;  and  then  again  there  was  too  much  of 
him  in  the  wrong  place.  The  major  wanted  to 
try  it,  and  no  doubt  would  have  done  so  with 
decorum  and  grace  but  for  his  clothes.  It  was 
a  straight  and  narrow  way  that  the  major  had 
been  walking  all  day,  and  he  could  run  no  risks. 

Everything  aboard  the  yacht  had  been  going 
as  merry  as  a  marriage  or  any  other  happy  bell 
of  good  cheer,  — the  major  at  his  best,  Smearly 
equally  delightful,  Helen  and  Jack  happy  as 


A  BROKEN   DRAW  345 

two  song-birds,  and  Mrs.  Leroy  with  a  joyous 
word  for  every  one  between  her  confidences 
to  Sanford,  when  just  as  the  gayety  was  at  its 
height  a  quick  sharp  ring  was  heard  in  the  en- 
gine-room below.  Almost  at  the  same  instant 
one  of  the  crew  touched  Sanford  on  the  shoul- 
der and  whispered  something  in  his  ear. 

Sanford  sprang  to  his  feet  and  looked  eagerly 
toward  the  shore. 

The  yacht  at  the  moment  was  entering  the 
narrow  channel  of  Medford  harbor,  and  the 
railroad  trestle  and  draw  could  be  plainly  seen 
from  its  deck.  Sanford's  quick  eye  had  in- 
stantly detected  a  break  in  the  sky-line.  The 
end  of  the  railroad  track  placed  on  the  trestle, 
and  crossing  within  a  few  hundred  feet  of  Mrs. 
Leroy's  cottage,  was  evidently  twisted  out  of 
shape,  while  across  the  channel,  on  its  opposite 
end  rested  an  engine  and  two  cars,  the  outer 
one  derailed  and  toppled  over.  On  the  water 
below  were  crowded  small  boats  of  every  con- 
ceivable kind,  hurrying  to  the  scene,  while  the 
surrounding  banks  were  black  with  people 
watching  intently  a  group  of  men  on  board  a 
scow,  who  were  apparently  trying  to  keep  above 
water  a  large  object  which  looked  like  a  float- 
ing house. 

Something  serious  had  evidently  happened. 

A  panic  of  apprehension  instantly  seized  the 
guests  on  the  yacht.  Faces  which  but  a  few 
moments  before  had  been  rosy  with  smiles  be- 


346        CALEB   WEST,    MASTER   DIVER 

came  suddenly  anxious  and  frightened.  Some 
of  the  ladies  spoke  in  whispers ;  could  it  be 
possible,  every  one  asked,  that  the  train  with 
General  Barton  and  the  committee  on  board 
had  met  with  an  accident  ? 

Sanford,  followed  by  Mrs.  Leroy,  hurried  into 
the  pilot-house  to  search  the  horizon  from  that 
elevation  and  see  the  better.  One  moment's 
survey  removed  all  doubt  from  his  mind.  A 
train  had  gone  through  the  draw ;  whether  pas- 
senger or  freight  he  could  not  tell.  One  thing 
was  certain  :  some  lives  must  be  in  danger,  or 
the  crowd  would  not  watch  so  intently  the 
group  who  were  working  with  such  energy 
aboard  the  rescuing  scow.  At  Sanford' s  re- 
quest three  quick,  short  bells  sounded  in  the 
engine-room  below,  and  the  yacht  quivered 
along  her  entire  length  as  she  doubled  her 
speed.  When  she  came  within  hailing  distance 
of  the  shore  a  lobster  fisherman  pulled  out  and 
crossed  the  yacht's  bow. 

"What 's  happened  ?  "  shouted  Sanford,  wav- 
ing his  hat  to  attract  attention. 

The  fisherman  stopped  rowing,  and  the  yacht 
slowed  down. 

"Train  through  the  draw,"  came  the  answer. 

"  Passenger  or  freight  ?  " 

"  'T  ain't  neither  one.  It 's  a  repair  train 
from  Stonin'ton,  with  a  lot  o'  dagos  an'  men. 
Caboose  went  clean  under,  an'  two  cars  piled 
on  top." 


A   BROKEN    DRAW  347 

Sanf ord  breathed  freer ;  the  Board  were  safe, 
anyhow. 

"  Anybody  killed  ?  " 

"  Yes.  Some  says  six ;  some  says  more. 
None  in  the  caboose  got  out.  The  dagos  was 
on  the  dirt-car  an'  jumped." 

The  yacht  sped  on.  As  she  neared  the  rail- 
road draw  Jack  took  Helen's  hand  and  led  her 
down  into  the  cabin.  He  did  not  want  her  to 
see  any  sight  that  would  shock  her.  Mrs.  Leroy 
stood  by  Sanford ;  the  yacht  was  her  house,  so 
to  speak ;  some  one  might  need  its  hospitality 
and  shelter,  and  she  wanted  to  be  the  first  to 
offer  it.  The  same  idea  had  crossed  Sanford's 
mind. 

"Major,"  said  Sanford,  "please  tell  Sam  to 
get  some  brandy  ready  and  bring  some  of  the 
mattresses  from  the  crew's  bunks  up  on  deck ; 
they  may  be  useful." 

A  voice  now  hailed  Sanford.  It  came  from 
the  end  of  the  scow  nearest  the  sunken  house, 
now  seen  to  be  one  end  of  a  caboose  car.  "  Is 
there  a  doctor  aboard  your  yacht  ?  " 

"  Yes,  half  a  one.  Who  wants  him  ? "  called 
Smearly,  leaning  over  the  rail  in  the  direction 
of  the  sound. 

"  We  've  got  a  man  here  we  can't  bring  to. 
He's  alive,  but  that 's  all." 

The  yacht  backed  water  and  moved  close  to 
the  scow.  Sanford  jumped  down,  followed  by 
Smearly   carrying   the  brandy  and  the  major 


348        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

with  a  mattress,  and  ran  along  her  deck  to 
where  the  man  lay.  The  yacht  kept  on.  It 
was  to  land  the  ladies  a  hundred  yards  away, 
and  then  return. 

"  Hand  me  that  brandy,  quick,  major!  "  ex- 
claimed Smearly,  as  he  dropped  on  one  knee 
and  bent  over  the  sufferer,  parting  the  lips  with 
his  fingers  and  pouring  a  spoonful  between  the 
closed  teeth.  "  Now  pull  that  mattress  closer, 
and  some  of  you  fellows  make  a  pillow  of  your 
coats,  and  find  something  to  throw  over  him 
when  he  comes  to ;  it 's  the  cold  that 's  killing 
him.     He  '11  pull  through,  I  think." 

Smearly's  early  training  in  the  hospital  ser- 
vice while  making  sketches  during  the  war  had 
more  than  once  stood  him  in  good  stead. 

The  major  was  the  first  man  in  his  shirt- 
sleeves ;  Leroy's  commodore  coat  was  begin- 
ning to  be  of  some  real  service.  Two  of  the 
scow's  crew  added  their  own  coats,  and  then 
ran  for  an  army  blanket  in  the  cabin  of  the 
scow.  The  sufferer  was  lifted  up  on  the  mat- 
tress and  made  more  comfortable,  the  coats 
placed  under  his  head,  the  army  blanket  tucked 
about  him. 

The  injured  man  gave  a  convulsive  gasp  and 
partly  opened  his  eyes.  The  brandy  was  doing 
its  work.  Sanford  leaned  over  him  to  see  if  he 
could  recognize  him,  but  the  ooze  and  slime 
clung  so  thickly  to  the  mustache  and  closely 
trimmed  beard  that  he  could  not  make  out  his 


A   BROKEN    DRAW  349 

features.  He  seemed  to  be  under  thirty  years 
of  age,  strong  and  well  built.  He  was  dressed 
in  a  blue  shirt  and  overalls,  and  looked  like  a 
mechanic. 

"  How  many  others  ? "  asked  Sanford,  look- 
ing toward  the  wreck.* 

"  He 's  the  only  one  alive,"  answered  the  cap- 
tain of  the  scow.  "  We  hauled  him  through  the 
winder  of  the  caboose  just  as  she  was  a-turnin' 
over ;  he  's  broke  something,  some'ers,  I  guess, 
or  he  'd  'a'  come  to  quicker.  There 's  two  dead 
men  under  there,"  pointing  to  the  sunken  ca- 
boose, "so  the  brakeman  says.  If  we  had  a 
diver  we  could  git  'em  up.  The  railroad  super- 
intendent 's  been  here,  an'  says  he  '11  send  for 
one ;  but  you  know  what  that  means,  —  he  11 
send  for  a  diver  after  they  git  this  caboose  up  ; 
by  that  time  they  'd  be  smashed  into  pulp." 

The  yacht  had  now  steamed  back  to  the 
wreck  with  word  from  Mrs.  Leroy  to  send  for 
whatever  would  be  needed  to  make  the  injured 
man  comfortable.  Sam  delivered  the  message, 
standing  in  the  bow  of  the  yacht.  He  had  not 
liked  the  idea  of  leaving  Sanford,  when  the 
yacht  moved  off  from  the  scow,  and  had  so 
expressed  himself  to  the  sailing-master.  He 
was  Sanford's  servant,  not  Mrs.  Leroy's,  he 
had  said,  and  when  people  were  getting  blown 
up  and  his  master  had  to  stay  and  attend  to 
them,  his  place  was  beside  him,  not  "waitin' 
on  de  ladies." 


350        CALEB   WEST,    MASTER   DIVER 

With  the  approach  of  the  yacht  Sanford 
looked  at  his  watch  thoughtfully,  and  raising 
his  voice  to  the  sailing-master,  who  was  stand- 
ing in  the  pilot-house,  his  hand  on  the  wheel, 
said  :  "  Captain,  I  want  you  to  tow  this  scow 
to  Mrs.  Leroy's  dock,  so  a  doctor  can  get  at 
this  wounded  man.  He  needs  hot  blankets  at 
once.  Then  crowd  on  everything  you've  got 
and  run  to  Keyport.  Find  Captain  Joe  Bell, 
and  tell  him  to  put  my  big  air-pump  aboard 
and  bring  Caleb  West  and  his  diving-dress. 
There  are  two  dead  men  down  here  who  must 
be  got  at  before  the  wrecking  train  begins 
on  the  caboose.  My  colored  boy,  Sam,  will  go 
with  you  and  help  you  find  the  captain's  house, 
—  he  knows  where  he  lives.  If  you  are  quick 
you  can  make  Keyport  and  back  in  an  hour." 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

THE   SWINGING    GATE 

When  the  tug  landed  Caleb  at  Keyport  this 
same  afternoon,  he  hurried  through  his  duties 
and  went  straight  to  his  cabin.  Mrs.-  Leroy's 
sympathetic  words  were  still  in  his  ears.  He 
could  hear  the  very  tones  of  her  voice  and  re- 
call the  pleading  look  in  her  eyes.  He  wished 
he  had  told  her  the  whole  truth  then  and  there, 
and  how  he  felt  toward  Betty ;  and  he  might 
have  done  so  had  not  the  other  ladies  been 
there,  expecting  her  aboard  the  yacht.  He  did 
not  feel  hurt  or  angry ;  he  never  was  with 
those  who  spoke  well  of  his  wife.  Her  words 
had  only  deepened  the  conviction  that  had  lately 
taken  possession  of  his  own  mind,  —  that  he 
alone,  of  all  who  knew  Betty,  had  shut  his  heart 
against  her.  Even  this  woman,  —  a  total  stran- 
ger,— who  had  taken  her  out  of  the  streets 
and  befriended  her  still  pleaded  for  her.  When 
would  his  own  heart  ever  be  softened  ?  What 
did  he  want  her  to  do  for  him  ?  Crawl  back 
on  her  hands  and  knees  and  lie  outside  his  door 
until  he  took  her  in  ?  And  if  she  never  came, 
—  what  then  ? 


352        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

How  long  would  she  be  able  to  endure  her 
present  life  ?  He  had  saved  her  from  Carleton. 
So  far  no  one  except  Betty,  Carleton,  and  him- 
self had  known  of  the  night  attack ;  not  even 
Captain  Joe.  It  was  best  not  to  talk  about  it ; 
it  might  injure  her.  But  who  else  would  try  to 
waylay  and  insult  her  ?  Maybe  his  holding  out 
so  long  against  her  would  force  her  into  other 
temptations,  and  so  ruin  her.  What  if  it  was 
already  too  late  ?  Lacey  had  been  seen  round 
Keyport  lately,  —  once  at  night.  He  knew  he 
wrote  to  her ;  Bert  Simmons,  the  letter-carrier, 
had  shown  him  other  letters  with  the  Ston- 
ington  postmark.  Was  Lacey  hanging  round 
Keyport  because  she  had  sent  for  him  ?  And 
if  she  went  back  to  him  after  all,  —  whose  fault 
was  it  ? 

At  the  thought  of  Lacey  the  beads  of  sweat 
stood  on  his  forehead.  Various  conflicting 
emotions  took  possession  of  him,  bringing  the 
hot  blood  to  his  cheek  and  setting  his  finger- 
nails deep  into  the  palms  of  his  hands.  It  was 
only  at  rare  intervals,  when  he  had  run  into 
Stonington  aboard  the  Screamer,  or  on  one  of 
the  tugs  short  of  coal  or  water,  that  he  had 
seen  the  man  who  had  ruined  his  home,  and 
then  only  at  a  distance.  The  young  rigger  was 
at  work  around  the  cars  on  the  dock.  Caleb 
had  never  known  whether  Lacey  had  seen  him 
He  thought  not.  The  men  said  the  young  fel 
low  always  moved  away  when  any  of  the  Key 


THE    SWINGING    GATE  353 

port  boats  came  in.  Then  his  mind  reverted 
to  Captain  Joe  and  to  the  night  he  pleaded  for 
her,  and  to  the  way  he  said  over  and  over  again, 
"  She  ain't  nothin'  but  a  child,  Caleb,  an'  all  of 
us  is  liable  to  go  astray."  These  words  seemed 
to  burn  themselves  into  his  brain. 

As  the  twilight  came  on  he  went  upstairs  on 
tiptoe,  treading  as  lightly  as  if  he  knew  she 
was  asleep  and  he  feared  to  waken  her.  Stand- 
ing by  the  bed,  he  looked  about  him  in  an  aim- 
less, helpless  way,  his  eyes  resting  finally  on 
the  counterpane,  and  the  pillow  he  had  placed 
every  night  for  her  on  her  side  of  the  bed.  It 
was  yellow  and  soiled  now.  In  the  same  half- 
dazed,  dreamy  way  he  stepped  to  the  closet, 
opened  the  door  cautiously,  and  laid  his  hand 
upon  her  dresses,  which  hung  where  she  had 
left  them,  smoothing  them  softly  with  his  rough 
fingers.  He  could  easily  have  persuaded  him- 
self (had  she  been  dead)  that  her  spirit  was 
near  him,  whispering  to  him,  leading  him  about, 
her  hand  in  his. 

As  he  stood  handling  the  dresses,  with  their 
little  sleeves  and  skirts,  all  the  paternal  seemed 
suddenly  to  come  out  in  him.  She  was  no  longer 
his  wife,  no  longer  the  keeper  of  his  house,  no 
longer  the  custodian  of  his  good  name.  She 
was  his  child,  his  daughter,  his  own  flesh  and 
blood,  —  one  who  had  gone  astray,  one  who  had 
pleaded  for  forgiveness,  and  who  was  now  alone 
in  the  world,  with  every  door  closed  against  her 
but  Captain  Joe's. 


354        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

In  the  brightness  of  this  new  light  of  pity  in 
him  a  great  weight  seemed  lifted  from  his  heart. 
His  own  sorrow  and  loneliness  seemed  trivial 
and  selfish  beside  hers.  He  big  and  strong,  fear- 
less to  go  and  come,  able  to  look  every  man  in 
the  face ;  and  she  a  timid  girl,  shrinking,  fright- 
ened, insulted,  hiding  even  from  those  who  loved 
her.  What  sort  of  man  was  he  to  shut  his  door 
in  her  face  and  send  her  shuddering  down  the 
road  ? 

With  these  new  thoughts  there  came  a  sud- 
den desire  to  help,  to  reach  out  his  arms  toward 
her,  to  stand  up  and  defend  her,  —  defend  her, 
out  in  the  open,  before  all  the  people. 

Catching  up  his  hat,  he  hurried  from  the 
house  and  walked  briskly  down  the  road.  It 
was  Betty's  hour  for  coming  home.  Since  her 
encounter  with  Carleton  there  had  been  few 
evenings  in  the  week  he  had  not,  with  one  ex- 
cuse or  another,  loitered  along  the  road,  hiding 
behind  the  fish-house  until  she  passed,  watching 
her  until  she  reached  the  swinging  gate.  Soon 
the  residents  up  and  down  the  road  began  to 
time  his  movements.  "Here  comes  Caleb," 
they  would  say;  "Betty  ain't  far  off.  Ain't 
nothin'  goin'  to  touch  her  as  long  as  Caleb  's 
round." 

This  watchful  care  had  had  its  effect.  Not 
only  had  Captain  Joe  and  Aunty  Bell  taken  her 
part,  but  Caleb  was  looking  after  her  too. 
When  this  became  common  talk  the  little  re- 


THE   SWINGING   GATE  355 

maining  tattle  ceased.  Better  not  talk  about 
Betty,  the  gossips  said  among  themselves  ;  Ca- 
leb might  hear  it. 

When  the  diver  reached  the  top  of  the  hill 
overlooking  Captain  Joe's  cottage,  his  eye  fell 
upon  Betty's  slight  figure  stepping  briskly  up 
the  hill,  her  shawl  drawn  tightly  about  her 
shoulders,  her  hat  low  down  on  her  face.  She 
had  passed  the  willows  and  was  halfway  to  the 
swinging  gate.  Caleb  quickened  his  pace  and 
walked  straight  toward  her. 

She  saw  him  coming,  and  stopped  in  sudden 
fright.  For  an  instant  she  wavered,  undecided 
whether  she  would  turn  and  run,  or  brave  it  out 
and  pass  him.  If  she  could  only  get  inside  the 
garden  before  he  reached  her !  As  she  neared 
the  gate  she  heard  his  footsteps  on  the  road, 
and  could  see  from  under  the  rim  of  her  hat  the 
rough  shoes  and  coarse  trousers  cement-stained 
up  as  far  as  his  knees.  Only  once  since  she 
had  gone  off  with  Lacey  had  she  been  so  close 
to  him. 

Gathering  all  her  strength  she  sprang  forward, 
her  hand  on  the  swinging  gate. 

"  I  '11  hold  it  back,  child,"  came  a  low,  sweet 
voice,  and  an  arm  was  stretched  out  before  her. 
"  It  shan't  slam  to  and  hurt  ye." 

He  was  so  close  she  could  have  touched  him. 
She  saw,  even  in  her  agony,  the  gray,  fluffy 
beard  and  the  wrinkled,  weather-stained  throat 
with  the  unbuttoned  collar  of  the  flannel  shirt. 


356        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

She  saw,  too,  the  big  brown  hand,  as  it  rested 
on  the  gate. 

She  did  not  see  his  eyes.  She  dared  not  look 
so  high. 

As  she  entered  the  kitchen  door  she  gave  a 
hurried  glance  behind.  He  was  following  her 
slowly,  as  if  in  deep  thought ;  his  hands  behind 
his  back,  his  eyes  on  the  ground. 

Aunty  Bell  was  bending  over  the  stove  when 
Betty  dashed  in. 

"  It 's  Caleb !  He  's  coming  in  !  Oh,  aunty, 
don't  let  him  see  me  —  please  —  please !  " 

The  little  woman  turned  quickly,  startled  at 
the  sudden  interruption. 

"  He  don't  want  ye,  child."  The  girl's  ap- 
pearance alarmed  her.  She  is  not  often  this 
way,  she  thought. 

"He  does  —  he  does.  He  spoke  to  me  — 
Oh,  where  shall  I  go  ?  "  she  moaned,  wringing 
her  hands,  her  whole  body  trembling  like  one 
with  an  ague. 

"  Go  nowhere,"  answered  Aunty  Bell  in  de- 
cided tones.  "  Stay  where  ye  be.  I  '11  go  see 
him.  'T  ain't  nothin',  child,  only  somethin' 
for  the  cap'n."  She  had  long  since  given  up 
all  hope  of  Caleb's  softening. 

As  she  spoke  the  diver's  slow  and  measured 
step  could  be  heard  sounding  along  the  plank 
walk. 

Aunty  Bell  let  down  her  apron  and  stepped 
to  the  door.     Betty  crept   behind  the  panels, 


THE   SWINGING   GATE  357 

watching  him  through  the  crack,  stifling  her 
breath  lest  she  should  miss  his  first  word.  Oh, 
the  music  of  his  voice  at  the  gate !  Not  his 
words,  but  the  way  he  spoke,  —  the  gentleness, 
the  pity,  the  compassion  of  it  all !  As  this 
thought  surged  through  her  mind  she  grew 
calmer ;  a  sudden  impulse  to  rush  out  and  throw 
herself  at  his  feet  took  possession  of  her.  He 
surely  could  not  repel  her  when  his  voice  car- 
ried such  tenderness  to  her  heart.  A  great 
sob  rose  in  her  throat.  The  measured,  slow 
step  came  closer. 

At  this  instant  she  heard  the  outer  gate 
swing  to  a  second  time  with  a  resounding  bang, 
and  Captain  Joe's  voice  calling,  "  Git  yer  dress, 
Caleb,  quick  as  God  '11  let  ye  !  Train  through 
the  Medford  draw  an'  two  men  drownded.  I  've 
been  lookin'  fur  ye  everywhere." 

"  Who  says  so  ? "  answered  Caleb  calmly 
without  moving. 

"Mr.  Sanford's  sent  the  yacht.  His  nig- 
ger 's  outside  now.  Hurry,  I  tell  ye  ;  we  ain't 
got  a  minute." 

Betty  waited,  her  heart  throbbing.  Caleb 
paused  for  an  instant  and  looked  earnestly 
and  hesitatingly  toward  the  house.  Then  he 
turned  quickly  and  followed  Captain  Joe. 

Aunty  Bell  waited  until  she  saw  both  men 
cross  the  road  on  their  way  to  the  dock.  Then 
she  went  in  to  find  Betty. 

She  was  still  crouched  behind  the  door,  her 


358        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

limbs  trembling  beneath  her.  On  her  face  was 
the  dazed  look  of  one  who  had  missed,  without 
knowing  why,  some  great  crisis. 

"Don't  cry,  child,"  said  the  little  woman,  pat- 
ting her  cheek.  "  It 's  all  right.  I  knowed  he 
didn't  come  for  ye." 

"But,  Aunty  Bell,  Aunty  Bell,"  she  sobbed, 
as  she  threw  her  arms  about  her  neck,  "I 
wanted  him  so." 


CHAPTER  XXV 

UNDER    THE    PITILESS    STARS 

The  purple  twilight  had  already  settled  over 
Medford  harbor  when  the  yacht  with  Captain 
Joe  and  Caleb  on  board  glided  beneath  the 
wrecked  trestle  with  its  toppling  cars,  and 
made  fast  to  one  of  the  outlying  spiles  of  the 
draw.  As  the  yacht's  stern  swung  in  toward 
the  sunken  caboose  which  coffined  the  bodies 
of  the  drowned  men,  a  small  boat  put  off  from 
the  shore  and  Sanford  sprang  aboard.  He  had 
succeeded  in  persuading  the  section  boss  in 
charge  of  the  wrecking  gang  to  delay  wrecking 
operations  until  Caleb  could  get  the  bodies, 
insisting  that  it  was  inhuman  to  disturb  the 
wreck  until  they  were  recovered.  As  the  yacht 
was  expected  every  moment  and  the  services  of 
the  diver  would  be  free,  the  argument  carried 
weight. 

"  Everything  is  ready,  sir,"  said  Captain  Joe, 
as  Sanford  walked  aft  to  meet  him.  "  We  've 
'iled  up  the  cylinders,  an'  the  pump  can  git  to 
work  in  a  minute.  I  '11  tend  Caleb ;  I  know 
how  he  likes  his  air.  Come,  Caleb,  git  inter 
yer  dress  ;  this  tide 's  on  the  turn." 


3<5o        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

The  three  men  walked  along  the  yacht's 
deck  to  where  the  captain  had  been  oiling  the 
air-pump.  It  had  been  lifted  clear  of  its  wooden 
case  and  stood  near  the  rail,  its  polished  brasses 
glistening  in  the  light  of  a  ship's  lantern  slung  to 
the  ratlines.  Sprawled  over  a  deck  settee  lay 
the  rubber  diving-dress,  —  body,  arms,  and  legs 
in  one  piece,  like  a  suit  of'  seamless  underwear, 
—  and  beside  it  the  copper  helmet,  a  trunkless 
head  with  a  single  staring  eye.  The  air-hose 
and  life-line,  together  with  the  back-plate  and 
breast-plate  of  lead  and  the  iron-shod  shoes,  lay 
on  the  deck. 

Caleb  placed  his  folded  coat  on  a  camp-stool, 
drew  off  his  shoes,  tucked  his  trousers  into  his 
stocking  legs,  and  began  twisting  himself  into 
his  rubber  dress,  Sanford  helping  him  with  the 
arms  and  neckpiece.  Captain  Joe,  meanwhile, 
overhauled  the  plates  and  loosened  the  fasten- 
ings of  the  weighted  shoes. 

With  the  screwing  on  of  Caleb's  helmet  and 
the  tightening  of  his  face-plate,  the  crowd  in- 
creased. The  news  of  the  coming  diver  had 
preceded  the  arrival  of  the  yacht,  and  the  tres- 
tle and  shores  were  lined  with  people. 

When  Caleb,  completely  equipped,  stepped 
on  the  top  round  of  the  ladder  fastened  to  the 
yacht's  side,  the  crowd  climbed  hurriedly  over 
the  wrecked  cars  to  the  stringers  of  the  trestle 
to  get  a  better  view  of  the  huge  man-fish  with 
its  distorted  head  and  single  eye,  and  its  long 


UNDER   THE   PITILESS    STARS         361 

antennae  of  hose  and  life-line.  Such  a  sight 
would  be  uncanny  even  when  the  blazing  sun 
burnished  the  diver's  polished  helmet  and  the 
one  eye  of  the  face-plate  glared  ominously ;  but 
at  night,  under  the  wide  sky,  with  only  a  single 
swinging  lamp  to  illumine  the  gloomy  shadows, 
the  man-fish  became  a  thing  of  dread, — a 
ghoulish  spectre  who  prowled  over  foul  and 
loathsome  things,  and  who  rose  from  the  slime 
of  deep  bottoms  only  to  breathe  and  sink  again. 

Caleb  slowly  descended  the  yacht's  ladder, 
one  iron-shod  foot  at  a  time,  until  the  water 
reached  his  armpits.  Then  he  swung  himself 
clear,  and  the  black,  oily  ooze  closed  over  him. 

Captain  Joe  leaned  over  the  yacht's  rail,  the 
life-line  wound  about  his  wrist,  his  sensitive 
hand  alert  for  the  slightest  nibble  of  the  man- 
fish.  These  nibbles  are  the  unspoken  words  of 
the  diver  below  to  his  "tender"  above.  His 
life  often  depends  on  these  being  instantly 
understood  and  answered. 

For  the  diver  is  more  than  amphibious  ;  he 
is  twice-bodied,  —  one  man  under  water,  one 
man  above,  with  two  heads  and  four  hands. 
The  connecting  links  between  these  two  bodies 
—  these  Siamese  twins  —  are  the  life-line  and 
signal-cord  through  which  they  speak  to  each 
other,  and  the  air-hose  carrying  their  life-breath. 

As  Caleb  dropped  out  of  sight  the  crew 
crowded  to  the  yacht's  rail,  straining  their  eyes 
in  the  gloom.     In  the  steady  light  of  the  lantern 


362        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

they  could  see  the  cord  tighten  and  slacken  as 
the  diver  felt  his  way  among  the  wreckage,  or 
sank  to  the  bottom.  They  could  follow,  too, 
the  circle  of  air  bubbles  floating  on  the  water 
above  where  he  worked.  No  one  spoke  ;  no 
one  moved.  An  almost  deathly  stillness  pre- 
vailed. The  only  sounds  were  the  wheezing  of 
the  air-pump  turned  by  the  sailor,  and  the 
swish  of  the  life-line  cutting  through  the  water 
as  the  diver  talked  to  his  tender.  With  these 
were  mingled  the  unheeded  sounds  of  the  night 
and  of  the  sea,  —  the  soft  purring  of  the  tall 
grasses  moving  gently  to  and  fro  in  the  night- 
wind,  and  the  murmuring  of  the  sluggish  water 
stirred  by  the  rising  tide  and  gurgling  along  the 
yacht's  side  on  its  way  to  the  stern. 

"  Has  he  found  them  yet,  Captain  Joe  ? " 
Sanford  asked,  after  some  moments,  under  his 
breath. 

"  Not  yet,  sir.  He 's  been  through  one  car, 
an'  is  now  crawlin'  through  t'other.  He  says 
they're  badly  broke  up.  Run  that  air-hose 
overboard,  sir ;  let  it  all  go ;  he  wants  it  all. 
Thank  ye.  He  says  the  men  are  in  their  bunks 
at  t'other  end,  if  anywheres;  that 's  it,  sir." 

There  came  a  quick  double  jerk,  answered 
by  one  long  pull. 

"More  air,  sir,  —  more  air!"  Captain  Joe 
cried  in  a  quick,  rising  voice.  "  So-o,  that  '11 
do." 

The  crew  looked  on  in  astonishment.     The 


UNDER  THE   PITILESS   STARS        363 

talk  of  the  man-fish  was  like  the  telephone 
talk  of  a  denizen  from  another  world. 

A  quarter  of  an  hour  passed.  Not  a  single 
tremor  had  been  felt  along  the  life-line,  nor  had 
Captain  Joe  moved  from  his  position  on  the 
rail.  His  eye  was  still  on  the  circle  of  bubbles 
that  rose  and  were  lost  in  the  current.  Sanford 
grew  uneasy. 

"  What 's  he  doing  now,  captain  ? "  he  asked 
in  an  anxious  voice. 

"  Don't  know,  sir ;  ain't  heard  from  him  in 
some  time." 

"  Ask  him." 

"  No,  sir ;  better  let  him  alone.  He  might 
be  crawlin'  through  somewheres  ;  might  tangle 
him  up  if  I  moved  the  line.  He  's  got  to  feel 
his  way,  sir.  It 's  black  as  mud  down  there. 
If  the  men  warn't  in  the  caboose  he  would  n't 
never  find  'em  at  night." 

A  quick,  sharp  jerk  from  under  the  surface 
now  swished  through  the  water,  followed  by  a 
series  of  strong,  rapid  pulls,  —  seesaw  pulls,  as 
if  some  great  fish  were  struggling  with  the 
line. 

"He's  got  one  of  'em,  sir,"  said  the  captain, 
with  sudden  animation.  "  Says  that 's  all. 
He's  been  through  two  cars  an'  felt  along 
every  inch  o'  the  way.  If  there 's  another,  he 's 
got  washed  out  o'  the  door." 

As  he  spoke  the  air-hose  slackened  and  the 
life-line  began  to  sag. 


364        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

Captain  Joe  turned  quickly  to  Sanford. 
"Pull  in  that  hose,  Mr.  Sanford,"  hauling  in 
the  slack  of  the  life-line  himself.  "  He 's  a-comin' 
up  ;  he'll  bring  him  with  him." 

These  varied  movements  on  the  yacht  stirred 
the  overhanging  crowd  into  action.  They 
hoped  the  diver  was  coming  up ;  they  hoped, 
too,  he  would  bring  the  dead  man.  His  appear- 
ing with  his  awful  burden  would  be  less  terrible 
than  not  knowing  what  the  man-fish  was  doing. 
The  crew  of  the  yacht  crowded  still  closer  to 
the  rail ;  this  fishing  at  night  for  the  dead  had 
a  fascination  they  could  not  resist.  Some  of 
them  even  mounted  the  ratlines,  and  others 
ran  aft  to  see  the  diver  rise  from  the  deep  sea. 

In  a  moment  more  the  black  water  heaved  in 
widening  circles,  and  Caleb's  head  and  shoulders 
were  thrust  up  within  an  oar's  length  of  the 
yacht.  The  light  of  the  lantern  fell  upon  his 
wet  helmet  and  extended  arm. 

The  hand  clutched  a  man's  boot. 

Attached  to  the  boot  were  a  pair  of  blue 
overalls  and  a  jacket.  The  head  of  the  drowned 
man  hung  down  in  the  water.  The  face  was 
hidden. 

Captain  Joe  leaned  forward,  lowered  the 
lantern  that  Caleb  might  see  the  ladder,  reeled 
in  the  life-line  hand  over  hand,  and  dragged  the 
diver  and  his  burden  to  the  foot  of  the  ladder. 
Sanford  seized  a  boat-hook,  and,  reaching  down, 
held  the  foot  close  to  the  yacht's  side  ;  then  a 


UNDER   THE    PITILESS    STARS         365 

sailor  threw  a  noose  of  marline  twine  around 
the  boot.  The  body  was  now  safe  from  the 
treacherous  tide. 

Caleb  raised  himself  slowly  until  his  helmet 
was  just  above  the  level  of  the  deck.  Captain 
Joe  removed  the  lead  plates  from  his  breast 
and  back,  and  unscrewed  his  glass  face-plate, 
letting  out  his  big  beard  and  letting  in  the  cool 
night-air. 

"  Any  more  down  there  ? "  he  cried,  his 
mouth  close  to  Caleb's  face  as  he  spoke. 

Caleb  shook  his  head  inside  the  copper  hel- 
met. "  No  ;  don't  think  so.  Guess  ye  thought 
I  was  a-goin'  to  stay  all  night,  did  n't  ye  ?  I 
had  ter  crawl  through  two  cars  'fore  I  got  him ; 
when  I  found  him  he  was  under  a  tool-chest. 
One  o'  them  lower  cars,  I  see,  has  got  its  end 
stove  out." 

"  Jes'  's  I  told  ye,  Mr.  Sanford,"  said  Captain 
Joe  in  a  positive  tone ;  "  t'other  body  went  out 
with  the  tide." 

The  yacht,  with  the  rescued  dead  man  laid 
on  the  deck  and  covered  with  a  sheet,  steamed 
across  the  narrow  channel,  reversed  her  screw, 
and  touched  the  fender  spiles  of  her  wharf  as 
gently  as  one  would  tap  an  egg.  Sanford,  who, 
now  that  the  body  was  found,  had  gone  ahead 
in  the  small  boat  in  search  of  the  section  boss, 
was  waiting  on  the  wharf  for  the  arrival  of  the 
yacht. 


366        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

"  There 's  more  trouble,  Captain  Joe,"  he 
called.  "  There 's  a  man  here  that  the  scow 
saved  from  the  wreck.  Mr.  Smearly  thought 
he  would  pull  through,  but  the  doctor  who  's 
with  him  says  he  can't  live  an  hour.  His  spine 
is  injured.  Major  Slocomb  and  Mr.  Smearly 
are  now  in  Stonington  in  search  of  a  surgeon. 
The  section  boss  tells  me  his  name  is  Williams, 
and  that  he  works  in  the  machine  shops,  Bet- 
ter look  at  him  and  see  if  you  know  him." 

Captain  Joe  and  Caleb  walked  toward  the 
scow.  She  was  moored  close  to  the  grassy 
slope  of  the  shore.  On  her  deck  stood  half  a 
dozen  men, — one  a  diver  sent  by  the  manager 
of  the  road,  and  who  had  arrived  with  his  dress 
and  equipment  too  late  to  be  of  service. 

The  injured  man  lay  in  the  centre.  Beside 
him,  seated  on  one  of  Mrs.  Leroy's  piazza 
chairs,  was  the  village  doctor ;  his  hand  was  on 
the  patient's  pulse.  One  of  Mrs.  Leroy's  maids 
knelt  at  the  wounded  man's  feet,  wringing  out 
cloths  that  had  been  dipped  in  buckets  of  boil- 
ing water  brought  by  the  men  servants.  Mrs. 
Leroy  and  Helen  and  one  or  two  guests  sat 
a  short  distance  away  on  the  lawn.  Over  by 
the  stables  swinging  lights  could  be  seen  glim- 
mering here  and  there,  as  if  men  were  hur- 
rying. There  were  lights,  too,  on  the  dock 
and  on  the  scow's  deck ;  one  hung  back  of  the 
sufferer's  head,  where  it  could  not  shine  on  his 
eyes. 


UNDER   THE   PITILESS   STARS        367 

The  wounded  man,  who  had  been  stripped  of 
his  wet  clothes,  lay  on  a  clean  mattress.  Over 
him  was  thrown  a  soft  white  blanket.  His 
head  was  propped  up  on  a  pillow  taken  from 
one  of  Mrs.  Leroy's  beds.  She  had  begged  to 
have  him  moved  to  the  house,  but  the  doctor 
would  not  consent  until  the  surgeon  arrived. 
So  he  kept  him  out  in  the  warm  night -air, 
under  the  stars. 

Dying  and  dead  men  were  no  new  sight  to 
Captain  Joe  and  Caleb.  The  captain  had  sat  by 
too  many  wounded  men  knocked  breathless  by 
falling  derricks,  and  seen  their  life  -  blood  ooze 
away,  and  Caleb  had  dragged  too  many  sailors 
from  sunken  cabins.  This  accident  was  not 
serious  ;  only  three  killed  and  one  wounded  out 
of  twenty.  In  the  morning  their  home  people 
would  come  and  take  them  away,  —  in  cloth- 
covered  boxes,  or  in  plain  pine.     That  was  all. 

With  these  thoughts  in  his  mind,  and  in  obe- 
dience to  Sanford's  request,  Captain  Joe  walked 
toward  the  sufferer,  nodded  to  the  Medford 
doctor  sitting  beside  him,  picked  up  the  lantern 
which  hung  behind  the  man's  head,  and  turned 
the  light  full  on  the  pale  face.  Caleb  stood  at 
one  side  talking  with  the  captain  of  the  scow. 

"  He  ain't  no  dago,"  said  Captain  Joe,  as  he 
turned  to  the  doctor.  "  Looks  to  me  like  one 
o'  them  young  fellers  what 's  "  —  He  stopped 
abruptly.  Something  about  the  injured  man 
attracted  him. 


368        CALEB   WEST,    MASTER   DIVER 

He  dropped  on  one  knee  beside  the  bed, 
pushed  back  the  matted  hair  from  the  man's 
forehead,  and  examined  the  skin  carefully. 

For  some  moments  he  remained  silent,  scan- 
ning every  line  in  the  face.  Then  he  rose  to 
his  feet,  folded  his  arms  across  his  chest,  his 
eyes  still  fastened  on  the  sufferer,  and  said 
slowly  and  thoughtfully  to  himself,  — 

"  Well,  I  'm  damned  !  " 

The  doctor  bent  his  head  in  expectation, 
eager  to  hear  the  captain's  next  words,  but  the 
captain  was  too  absorbed  to  notice  the  gesture. 
For  some  minutes  he  continued  looking  at  the 
dying  man. 

"  Come  here,  Caleb ! "  he  called,  beckoning  to 
the  diver.  "  Hold  the  lantern  close.  Who  's 
that  ? "  His  voice  sank  almost  to  a  whisper. 
"Look  in  his  face." 

"  I  don't  know,  cap'n  ;  I  never  see  him  afore." 

At  the  sound  of  the  voices  the  head  on  the 
pillow  turned,  and  the  man  half  opened  his 
eyes,  and  groaned  heavily.  He  was  evidently 
in  great  pain,  —  too  great  for  the  opiates  wholly 
to  deaden. 

"  Look  agin,  Caleb ;  see  that  scar  on  his 
cheek ;  that 's  where  the  Screamer  hit  'im. 
That 's  Bill  Lacey." 

Caleb  caught  up  the  lantern  as  Captain  Joe 
had  done,  and  turned  the  light  full  on  the  dying 
man's  face.  Slowly  and  carefully  he  examined 
every  feature,  —  the  broad  forehead,  deep-sunk 


UNDER   THE    PITILESS    STARS         369 

eyes,  short,  curly  hair  about  the  temples,  and 
the  mustache  and  close-trimmed  beard,  which 
had  been  worn  as  a  disguise,  no  doubt,  along 
with  his  new  name  of  Williams.  In  the  same 
searching  way  his  eye  passed  over  the  broad 
shoulders  and  slender,  supple  body  outlined 
under  the  clinging  blanket,  and  so  on  down  to 
the  small,  well-shaped  feet  that  the  kneeling 
maid  was  warming. 

"  It 's  him,"  he  said  quietly,  stepping  back  to 
the  mast,  and  folding  his  arms  behind  his  back, 
while  his  eyes  were  fixed  on  the  drawn  face. 

During  this  exhaustive  search  Captain  Joe 
followed  every  expression  that  swept  over  the 
diver's  face.  How  would  the  death  of  this  man 
affect  Betty? 

With  an  absorbed  air,  the  captain  picked  up  an 
empty  nail-keg,  and  crossing  the  deck  sat  down 
beside  the  mattress,  his  hands  on  his  knees, 
watching  the  sufferer.  As  he  looked  at  the 
twitching  muscles  of  the  face  and  the  fading 
color,  the  bitterness  cherished  for  months  against 
this  man  faded  away.  He  saw  only  the  punish- 
ment that  had  come,  its  swiftness  and  its  sure- 
ness.  Then  another  face  came  before  him,  —  a 
smaller  one,  with  large  and  pleading  eyes. 

"  Ain't  no  chance  for  him,  I  s'pose  ?  "  he  said 
to  the  doctor  in  a  low  tone. 

The  only  answer  was  an  ominous  shake  of 
the  head  and  a  significant  rubbing  of  the  edge 
of  the  doctor's  hand  across  the  waist-line  of  the 


370        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

captain's  back.  Captain  Joe  nodded  his  head ; 
he  knew,  —  the  spine  was  broken. 

The  passing  of  a  spirit  is  a  sacred  and  mo- 
mentous thing,  an  impressive  spectacle  even  to 
rough  men  who  have  seen  it  so  often. 

One  by  one  the  watchers  on  the  scow  with- 
drew. Captain  Joe  and  the  doctor  remained 
beside  the  bed ;  Caleb  stood  a  few  feet  away, 
leaning  against  the  mast,  the  full  glow  of  the 
lantern  shedding  a  warm  light  over  his  big 
frame  and  throwing  his  face  into  shadow. 
What  wild,  turbulent  thoughts  surged  through 
his  brain  no  one  knew  but  himself.  Beads  of 
sweat  had  trickled  down  his  face,  and  he  loos- 
ened his  collar  to  breathe  the  better. 

Presently  the  captain  sank  on  his  knee  again 
beside  the  mattress.  His  face  had  the  firm, 
determined  expression  of  one  whose  mind  has 
been  made  up  on  some  line  of  action  that  has 
engrossed  his  thoughts.  He  put  his  mouth 
close  to  the  sufferer's  ear. 

"  It 's  me,  Billy,  —  Cap'n  Joe.  Do  ye  know 
me?" 

The  eyes  opened  slowly  and  fastened  them- 
selves for  an  instant  upon  the  captain's  face. 
A  dull  gleam  of  recognition  stirred  in  their 
glassy  depths ;  then  the  lids  closed  wearily. 
The  glimpse  of  Lacey's  mind  was  but  momen- 
tary, yet  to  the  captain  it  was  unmistakable. 
The  brain  was  still  alert. 

He  leaned  back  and  beckoned  to  Caleb. 


UNDER   THE   PITILESS    STARS        371 

"  Come  over  'ere,"  he  said  in  a  low  whisper, 
"  an'  git  down  close  to  'im.  He  ain't  got  long 
ter  live.  Don't  think  o'  what  he  done  to  you ; 
git  that  out  o'  yer  head ;  think  o'  where  he 's 
a-goin'.  Don't  let  him  go  with  that  on  yer 
mind ;  it  ain't  decent,  an'  it  '11  haunt  ye.  Git 
down  close  to  'im,  an'  tell  'im  ye  ain't  got  nothin' 
agin  'im  ;  do  it  for  me,  Caleb.  Ye  won't  never 
regret  it." 

The  diver  knelt  in  a  passive,  listless  way,  as 
one  kneels  in  a  church  to  the  sound  of  an  altar 
bell.  The  flame  of  the  lantern  fell  on  his  face 
and  shaggy  beard,  lighting  up  the  earnest, 
thoughtful  eyes  and  tightly  pressed  lips. 

"Pull  yerself  together,  Billy,  jes'  once  fur 
me,"  said  Captain  Joe  in  a  half-coaxing  voice. 
"  It 's  Caleb  bendin'  over  ye  ;  he  wants  to  tell 
ye  somethin'."  ■ 

The  sunken,  shriveled  lids  parted  quickly, 
and  the  eyes  rested  for  a  moment  on  the 
diver's  face.  The  lips  moved,  as  if  the  man 
were  about  to  speak.     But  no  words  came. 

Over  the  cheeks  and  nose  there  passed  a  con- 
vulsive twitching,  —  the  neck  stiffened,  the  head 
straightened  back  upon  the  pillow. 

Then  the  jaw  fell. 

"  He 's  dead,"  said  the  doctor,  laying  his  hand 
over  the  man's  heart. 

Captain  Joe  drew  the  blanket  over  the  dead 
face,  rose  from  his  knees,  and,  with  his  arm  in 
Caleb's,  left  the  scow  and  walked  slowly  toward 


372        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

the  yacht.  The  doctor  gathered  up  his  reme- 
dies, gave  some  directions  to  the  watchman, 
and  joined  Mrs.  Leroy  and  the  ladies  on  the 
lawn. 

Only  the  watchman  on  the  scow  was  left, 
and  the  silent  stars,  —  stern,  unflinching,  pit- 
iless, like  the  eyes  of  many  judges. 


^ 


.6 

R 


CHAPTER   XXVI 

CALEB     TRIMS     HIS     LIGHTS 

Caleb  and  Captain  Joe  sat  on  the  yacht's 
deck  on  their  way  back  to  Keyport.  The  air- 
pump  had  been  lifted  into  its  case,  and  the 
dress  and  equipment  had  been  made  ready  to 
be  put  ashore  at  the  paraphernalia  dock. 

The  moon  had  risen,  flooding  the  yacht  with 
white  light  and  striping  the  deck  with  the  clear- 
cut,  black  shadows  of  the  stanchions.  On  the 
starboard  bow  burned  Keyport  Light,  and  be- 
yond flashed  Little  Gull,  a  tiny  star  on  the  far- 
off  horizon, 

Caleb  leaned  back  on  a  settee,  his  eyes  fixed 
on  the  glistening  sea.  He  had  not  spoken  a 
word  since  his  eyes  rested  on  Lacey's  face. 

"  Caleb,"  said  Captain  Joe,  laying  his  hand  on 
the  diver's  knee,  "mebbe  ye  don't  feel  right  to 
me  fur  sayin'  what  I  did,  but  I  did  n't  want  ye 
to  let  'im  go  an'  not  tell  'im  ye  hadn't  no 
hatred  in  yer  heart  toward  'im.  It  'd  come 
back  to  plague  ye,  and  ye've  had  sufferin' 
enough  already  'long  o'  him.  He  won't  worry 
you  nor  her  no  more.  He's  lived  a  mean, 
stinkin'  life,  an'  he's  died  's  I  alius  knowed  he 


374         CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

would, — with  nobody's  hand  ter  help  'im. 
Caleb,"  —  he  paused  for  an  instant  and  looked 
into  the  diver's  face,  —  "you  'n  me  's  knowed 
each  other  by  an'  large  a  many  a  year;  ye 
know  what  I  want  ye  to  do ;  ye  know  what 
hurts  me  an'  has  ever  sence  the  child  come 
back.  He 's  out  o'  yer  hands  now.  God 's 
punished  him.  Be  good  to  yerself  an'  to  her, 
an'  forgive  her.     Take  Betty  back." 

The  old  man  turned  and  slipped  his  hand 
over  Captain  Joe's,  —  a  hard,  horny  hand,  with 
a  heart-throb  in  every  finger-tip. 

"  Cap'n  Joe,  I  know  how  ye  feel.  There  ain't 
nothin'  between  us ;  but  yer  wrong  about  him. 
As  I  stood  over  him  to-night  I  fit  it  all  out  with 
myself.  If  he'd  'a'  lived  long  'nough  I'd  'a' 
told  him,  jes'  's  ye  wanted  me  to.  But  yer 
ain't  never  had  this  thing  right ;  I  ain't  a-blamin' 
her." 

"Then  take  'er  home,  an'  quit  this  foolish 
life  ye  're  leadin',  an'  her  heart  a-breakin'  every 
day  for  love  o'  ye.  Ain't  ye  lonely  'nough  with- 
out her  ?     God  knows  she  is  without  you." 

Caleb  slowly  withdrew  his  hand  from  Captain 
Joe's  and  put  his  arms  behind  his  head,  making 
a  rest  of  his  interlocked  fingers. 

"  When  ye  say  she 's  a-breakin'  her  heart  for 
me,  Cap'n  Joe,  ye  don't  know  it  all."  His  eyes 
looked  up  at  the  sky  as  he  spoke.  "  'T  ain't 
that  I  ain't  willin'  to  take  'er  back.  I  alius 
wanted  to  help  her,  an'  I  alius  wanted  to  take 


CALEB   TRIMS    HIS    LIGHTS  375 

care  of  her,  —  not  to  have  her  take  care  o'  me. 
I  made  up  my  mind  this  mornin',  when  I  see 
how  folks  was  a-treatin'  'er,  to  ask  'er  to  come 
home.  If  I  'd  treat  'er  right,  they  'd  treat  'er 
right ;  I  know  it.  But  I  warn't  the  man  for 
her,  an'  she  don't  love  me  now  no  more  'n 
she  did.  That's  what  hurts  me  an'  makes 
me  afraid.  Now  I  '11  tell  ye  why  I  know  she 
don't  love  me ;  tell  ye  something  ye  don't  know 
at  all," — he  turned  his  head  as  he  spoke,  and 
looked  the  captain  full  in  the  eyes,  his  voice 
shaking,  —  "  an'  when  I  tell  ye  I  want  to  say 
I  ain't  a-blamin'  her."  The  words  that  followed 
came  like  the  slow  ticking  of  a  clock.  "  He 's 
—  been  —  a-writin'  —  to  'er  —  ever  since  —  she 
left  'im.  Bert  Simmons  —  showed  me  the  let- 
ters." 

"  You  found  that  out,  did  ye  ?  "  said  Captain 
Joe,  a  sudden  angry  tremor  in  his  voice.  "  Ye  're 
right ;  he  has  !  Been  a-writin'  to  her  ever  sence 
she  left  him,  —  sometimes  once  a  month,  some- 
times once  a  week,  an'  lately  about  every  day." 

Caleb  raised  his  head.  This  last  was  news 
to  him. 

"  And  that  ain't  all.  Every  one  o'  them  let- 
ters she  's  brought  to  me,  jes'  's  fast  as  she 
got  'em,  an'  I  locked  'em  in  my  sea-chest  along 
o'  the  money  ye  gin  her  every  week,  an'  the 
money  and  letters  are  there  now.  An'  there  's 
more  to  it  yet.  There  airit  nary  seal  broke  on 
any  one  of  Laceys.     Whoever  's  been  a-lyin'  to 


376  CALEB   WEST,    MASTER   DIVER 

ye,  Caleb,  ain't  told  ye  one  half  o'  what  he 
ought  to  know." 

Captain  Joe  swung  back  his  garden  gate  and 
walked  quickly  up  the  plank  walk,  his  big, 
burly  body  swaying  as  he  moved.  The  house 
was  dark,  except  for  a  light  in  the  kitchen 
window,  and  another  in  Betty's  room.  He 
saw  Aunty  Bell  in  a  chair  by  the  table,  but  he 
hurried  by,  on  his  way  upstairs,  without  a 
word.  Caleb  followed  with  slow  and  measured 
step.  When  he  reached  the  porch,  Aunty  Bell 
had  left  her  seat  and  was  standing  on  the  mat. 

"  Why,  Caleb,  be  ye  comin'  in  too  ? "  she 
said.  "  I  '11  git  supper  for  both  o'  ye.  Guess 
ye  're  tuckered  out." 

"  I  don't  want  no  supper,"  he  answered 
gravely,  without  looking  at  her.  "  I  '11  go  into 
the  settin'-room  an'  wait,  if  ye  '11  let  me." 

She  opened  the  door  silently  for  him,  won- 
dering if  he  was  in  one  of  his  moods.  The 
only  light  in  the  room  came  from  the  street- 
lamp,  stenciling  the  vines  on  the  drawn  shades. 

"  I  '11  fetch  a  light  for  ye,  Caleb,"  she  said 
quietly,  and  turned  toward  the  kitchen.  In 
the  hall  she  paused,  her  knees  shaking,  a 
prayer  in  her  heart.  Captain  Joe  and  Betty 
were  coming  down  the  stairs,  Betty's  face  hid- 
den on  his  shoulder,  her  trembling  fingers 
clinging  to  his  coat. 

"Ain't  nothin'  to  skeer  ye,  child,"  the  cap* 


"Ain't  nothirt  to  skeerye,  child" 


CALEB  TRIMS   HIS    LIGHTS  377 

tain  said,  patting  the  girl's  cheek  as  he  stopped 
at  the  threshold.  "  It 's  all  right.  He 's  in 
there  waitin',''  and  he  closed  the  door  upon 
them. 

Then  he  walked  straight  toward  Aunty  Bell, 
two  big  tears  rolling  down  his  cheeks,  and,  lay- 
ing his  hand  upon  her  shoulder,  said,  "  Caleb 's 
got  his  lights  trimmed,  an'  Betty 's  found  har- 
bor.    The  little  gal  !s  home." 


In  another  room,  some  miles  away,  before 
a  window  that  looked  upon  the  sea,  sat  a  wo- 
man, with  cheeks  tight  pressed  between  her 
hands.  The  low  -  lying  drowsy  moon  shed  a 
white  light  on  her  thoughtful  face  and  silvered 
the  fluff  of  loosened  hair  that  fell  about  her 
shoulders.  She  had  sat  there  for  hours  — 
long  after  the  house  was  silent.  Outside  the 
world  was  still :  only  the  lapping  of  little  wave- 
tongues  along  the  shore  was  heard  ;  the  croak- 
ing of  frogs  in  the  marsh,  and  the  cry  of  the 
night-hawk  circling  as  he  flew. 

On  the  desk  beside  her  lay  an  open  letter 
with  a  Paris  postmark.  It  had  come  by  the 
late  mail. 

Once  in  a  while  her  eyes  would  rest  on  the 
shimmer  of  silver  framing  the  Ledge.  Then 
some  remembrance  of  the  day  would  rush  over 
her  :  the  anxious  waiting  for  the  verdict  ;  San- 
ford's  upraised  hand  as  he  entered  the  cabin ; 


378        CALEB   WEST,   MASTER   DIVER 

the  gaunt  outline  of  the  wrecked  trestle  and  the 
ghostly  lantern  that  burned  above  the  head  of 
the  dying  man.  From  out  the  turmoil  of  these 
contending  memories  one  face  shone  clear  and 
strong,  with  fixed  and  questioning  eyes. 

In  that  one  look  she  had  read  his  inmost 
depth.  She  had  caught  the  sudden  uplifting  of 
the  lids,  the  wondering  glance  at  her  joyous 
words  of  praise,  and  the  shadow  that  followed. 

"  It  is  best  so,"  she  whispered  to  herself  at 
last.  "  It  is  the  only  way.  I  did  not  mean  to 
hurt  him,  —  only  to  help.  Help  him  —  and 
me." 

With  a  tired,  listless  air,  she  .rose  from  her 
seat,  folded  the  letter  slowly,  and  locked  it  in 
her  desk. 


THE    END. 


<3flbe  fitoerjibe  Pte# 

CAMBRIDGE,  MASSACHUSETTS,  U.  S.  A. 

ELECTROTYPED  AND  PRINTED  BY 

H.  O.  HOUGHTON  AND  CO. 


DATE  DUE 

GAYLORO 

PRINTED  IN  O    S   A        1 

■■III 

A     000  548  219 


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